Our First Time
by phfina
Summary: Chapter 9: Do you know what a stone going into the Sol Duc River at high velocity sounds like? It sounds like gunshot.
1. Paradox

**Chapter Summary:** Couldn't Bella have just asked me first before she cut off all her hair? I told her to be brave, not stupid.

Side story to _Rose Read_ by Jocelyn Torrent. Precedes both my _Christmas Surprises_ and my _The Bells are Ringing._

* * *

The weekend started like every other weekend started for me.

Which is: it didn't. One of the niceties of being human is that things have a start and an end. People don't realize that being in time, where the past is in the past, and not always occurring in the present is such a … well, Carlisle would say it's a blessing.

What I call this? This thing? This eternity I'm trapped in? Carlisle calls that a blessing, too.

Idiot.

I don't call it a 'blessing;' I call it unrelenting.

Well, the past couple of months haven't been like that, because as my family has told me, over and over, that up to now I was being selfish.

They didn't put it that way, exactly. Instead they couched it, or Esme couched it, in words of, 'Oh, if you are occupied with doing something you [she said] love, then the other things fade and you enjoy this now.'

Utter nonsense.

Really. How could the Cullens have at their head two blindly optimistic imbeciles yet be a force to be reckoned with across the world? It just didn't make sense, because Carlisle and Esme never made any sense. They were totally out of touch with reality.

Reality? I know reality. From the moment of my creation, I knew exactly what the world is like and I know exactly how people in the world are like.

Or … I thought I knew reality. I thought I knew people.

But then, these past couple of months, I've … well, somebody's entered my life, for the first time, and I've been thinking about her, and looking after her (because she really, _really_ needs to be looked after with that relationship with danger she has: either her inquisitive mind or her, well, frankly, lack of poise draws her right to the most fantastic situations), and this Nowness is not so oppressive anymore.

In fact, the last two months have been rather a whirlwind, and I know every moment of it, but it's all come so quickly as compared to the last century.

And it's all come so … well, I find myself looking forward to seeing what her next visit brings. I find myself looking forward to something.

For the first time in my existence.

And without her? Well, this last week has been hard. But I couldn't be with her this past week. I just couldn't. I mean, with that scent just so enticing normally, but with her bleeding even just that little tiny bit due to her menstrual flow …?

I mean when what my body _needs_ more than anything in the world is to consume every last drop of her, and then add on top of that her own body emitting _that_ during her period?

Bella Swan is Edward Cullen's singer, yes, but in a way, her call is just so alluring for every vampire, and, with my scent being what it is, and hers being hers, well, she may not be technically my singer, but the struggle for me as almost as bad as if she were.

It's a vampire thing, you wouldn't understand.

Just like eternity. I can explain it until you're blue in the face (my face doesn't change color, if you missed that), but this being? this existing? You have no conception of how everything is always Now until you're there, trapped in that Hell, with no way out unless you pull an Edward, … and have the guts to follow through on that instead of wussing out like my 'older' brother did.

But if eternity for me is Hell, having every moment of my past always right there in front of me, then think what it's like for my 'younger' sister, Alice.

Alice.

Not only does she have this _thisness, _but she's got every possible future in front of her eyes, too. So I can sympathize, sometimes, with her, when she gets annoyed at somebody when they keep resisting what they know they must do.

Actually, I so thoroughly enjoyed it when Edward had his little human problem, watching Alice stand on tiptoe and get right in Edward's face as Edward tried to deny what was so obvious to everybody, including him if he only wasn't being so stupidly obstinate.

But then, three months ago, it was my turn.

And when Alice was giving me her warm, and helpful, and irritated, and impatient advice _which I did not ask for, thank you very much!_ Well, I didn't like being on the receiving end all that much.

I mean, Alice has always been the gadfly of the family. That's the best description of her. She calls herself a 'pixie' because she plays up the 'cute' angle, but I saw from the beginning, when she joined our family in 1950 her game. 'Oh, I'm happy-bouncy-funny-crazy, so you have to listen to me and do exactly what I say because I won't let up until you do. Oh, and you'd better be smiling and chuckling as I make you, too!'

She could play that game with the others. But right from the get-go she saw she couldn't pull that shit with me. She could push around the others, but she couldn't push around me.

Nobody pushes me around. After all, I'm Rosalie Lillian Hale.

And I think, me, drawing that line for her, and her, respecting that?

I think our relationship has grown to be the strongest in the family. I mean, certainly the mated pairs have each other, right down to their very being. That's undeniable: Carlisle is for Esme; Esme, for Carlisle. Alice is for Jasper and vice versa, but outside of that, even though it appears that Alice and Edward are like inseparable siblings, how do they really treat each other? They assume their relationship and so they live with each other with easy smiles and short-hand.

Alice and myself? There is a relationship built on mutual respect, because it's a relationship that took more than a decade to build. She makes no assumptions of me, even after all these years. She respects me for who I am, and I've seen that, and I respect that in her.

But that doesn't stop her from being that annoying little gadfly that she is, all the time. And now that Bella and I are_, finally,_ together as a couple, Alice, ever watchful of Bella, her 'BFF' (oh, for goodness sake!), has now focused more of that concern on me than ever before.

Not quite sure I like this increased attention from my little sister.

So when Alice got that quiet, thoughtful look on her face with her eyes looking at nothing here, and then got all excited and bouncy in that annoyingly 'pixie-like' way that is signature Alice, I ignored it, as I always do.

I shouldn't have, even as she turned right to me with that pointing finger of hers.

I hate it when she does that.

But her words should have clued me in that something was up. And they did.

"Now, Rosalie," she hissed with narrowed eyes, "don't you dare mess this up!"

I sighed. "Yes, Alice," I answered.

It was pointless to argue with Alice when she got like this, and what was to argue about? Asking her what she meant? Fifty years of having these conversations allowed me to avoid wasting breath asking. She only got smug with her 'you'll see' pronouncements, and if there's one thing that pisses me off, it's a smug Alice.

"I'm serious!" she answered hotly. Of course she was displeased that I wasn't smiling and happy and bouncy when I answered. Of course I knew that, so my capitulating was actually my way of sticking it to her.

Oh, the games families play when they've known each other for a while!

"And!" she continued, "Don't you dare run off with her! We want to see her, too!"

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed. The realization began to dawn that something was really amiss.

"Uh-huh! She did it!" Alice beamed. She got to be smug after all.

I put my head into my hands, being very careful how my hair fell.

See, Bella and I had been watching movies together, and so we saw the Alien 'quadrilogy' — 'quadrilogy'? I still argue there's no such word — and Bella's favorite of the series? Alien³

And why was that? I finally pried that little piece out of her: she felt the singing of the Agnus Dei sounded a bit like me when I sing. You should have seen her blush as she admitted this.

Of all the …

But, as we watched Alien³, her in my lap, she mentioned that it was so brave of Sigourney Weaver to shave her head like that to play Ripley, and she wondered what that would be like, to be bald, and since she was still human, she could try that before she was turned and …

"She didn't!" I whispered into my hands.

I could just see her so full of pheromones, hormones, and angry, nervous energy going to a stylist and snarling, 'cut it all off!' My mousy little Bella, trying so hard to be brave. I could just see my bald little Bella Sinéad O'Connor Swan when I picked her up at her house for this weekend's slumber party.

I could just picture her, too: her big brown eyes and buddhist head, looking so much smaller now without her hair, looking so much more frightened because now she had nothing to hide behind. Would she also be dressed in all black, and be wearing black lipstick and nail polish, too? Would she also have a tattoo across her back that said 'Fight the Power!'?

Could I still love her, looking like that?

I froze time. Everything stopped: the motes in the air, Alice's pointing finger, Carlisle's and Esme's look of confusion and concern.

Could I still love her?

Yes.

I could still love her, because I do.

No matter how she looks, I love her.

Because she is everything. She is my whole being.

But that will not save her from the talking to she's going to get, and I don't care if she cries this whole weekend, but she's going to get a very clear message from me. How I look is not vanity, because how you treat yourself and how you make yourself look for others is how you think of yourself, and I could let her humble little girl-next-door look go [from time to time], because Bella is humble, but this?

I lifted my head from my hands, and firmed up my resolve. Bella was going to get the lecture, and she was going to be made to understand, because I was going to tell her, gently, yes, lovingly, yes, but also in a way that she would be made to understand.

Alice saw my resolve, and her face hardened with her own.

"Rosalie," she said forcefully, "and don't you dare make a big deal out of this!"

"I won't!" I hissed back, irritated at the hypocrisy. Alice could push and bully Bella around with her cutesy intimidation tactics all the time, but me just saying one honest thing is not okay?

"Oh, I know you, Rosalie Hale," Alice retorted, "and don't you think for one second that I don't. You won't say anything at first, but then you'll be all polite and formal and thoughtful and 'just want to ask one question.' And you know what that will do to her. You know. She'll see right through that bullshit you throw up for everybody, including especially yourself, you altruistic self-righteous do-gooder, and her heart will be alternately stopping and racing in time with her stomach flips. Do you want her to have a heart attack before she's turned? Do you want to ruin this entire weekend because 'oh, I'm just saying, Bella'? Do you?"

Alice was right in my face as she shouted these words at me.

My eyes narrowed, and everything in me wanted me to lean forward and rip my sister's face right off.

I paused for one significant second, and leaned back in my chair at the table, putting down my book and crossed my arms.

"My, my," I said quietly. "Is some poor little Biloxi girl miffed that the South still hasn't risen again against us Northern oppressors?"

Low of me, I know, for I was reminding her of a past she only had through documents that showed she was just poor white trash.

And striking at her by attacking something near and dear to her one and only Major in the Confederate army? Jasper's frown was grim, and that displeasure, as he emoted it to us all, hit his Alice the hardest.

Alice visibly controlled herself. It looked like she was fighting the urge for a tussle herself.

Good! I could use some honesty, and a knock-down, drag-out fight, after all these years of peace, love … and pretension.

But it was not to be.

"I'm serious, Rosalie," she whispered, looking at me, her eyes filled with sincere concern.

Alice is strong and resolved, too, in her own way. We all are. We must be.

Just as I must be.

I looked away. "I know you are, Alice," I whispered, "I just don't know, when I see Bella again, how to …"

Alice interrupted me: "Just be what you've been being with her, Rose. Aren't you happy when you're with her? Don't fall back to what you've been before, because you weren't happy then."

"So, be yourself, Rosalie," she said. Then she paused. Then she added angrily: "And _be nice!"_

I nodded and got up from the table, looking around at my family, looking at me, reproachfully.

"Well," I said to nobody in particular, "I have to pick up Bella now …"

I was so looking forward to spending time with her this weekend, and now there was a bitter acid taste in my mouth.

"And bring her here!" Alice commanded.

I looked at Alice, and nodded again sadly. She smiled warmly, encouragingly, at me as I turned to leave.

"Rosalie," Alice called.

I turned back.

She pointed at the table. "Don't forget your book." Her smile widened.

I picked up the book in question and headed out to the garage.

I got into my baby, my hot red BMW M3 convertible and drove slowly off to Bella's, that is, at a speed that if her dad Charlie, that is _Police Chief_ _Swan,_ caught me, wouldn't have gotten me a ticket, it would have put me right in court. And, as I drove, the trees blurring past me, a paradox plagued me.

How could I be me … and be nice?

* * *

**Chapter end notes:**

[1] Is it okay, my dearies, if I don't have any endnotes (I mean, except this one) for this chapter or this story? I'm not feeling particularly witty today. Oh, okay, I'll do an endnote fer realz: I cleared this idea with JT, but that doesn't necessarily mean she likes it (and how could she know that, as she hasn't read it at all?) Don't blame her if this isn't what you expect from _Rose Read; _blame me. Conversely, all the good stuff comes from her story idea and our discussions and I went from there, so if you like what you see, give her story a read and review those yummy chapters.

[2] Okay, one more note, I guess: this story, unlike my _Happy Ending_ story, _does_ have a happy ending. Sorta. I mean, insofar as … well, do you remember your first time with a girl — which also happened to be your very first time _ever_ — with all that stuff going through your head, maybe, and … well, you'll see.

[3] _sigh!_ Just one more, when Rosalie says she 'knows' reality, she's referring to the fact that she thinks everybody's either a murdering rapist or a user, because that's how she [sees how she] came to be a vampire, as her mother pushed her into an engagement to man who left her for dead after he and his buddies forced themselves on her. Since then, Rosalie has had 'some' 'trust issues.' Yeah: 'some.' *_rolls eyes*_

[4] Oh, please _do not_ ask me if this was gonna be a one-shot, okay? I've proved that I can write one-shots with _Rosalie and Me_ and _Prowling Panther ... _even though I've come up with chapter 2's for both those stories, too, already. _*buries head in hands* _What can I say? Rosalie is a complex character, difficult to distill into one chapter, so she made me expand this one-shot into a larger story. Don't believe me? Ask JT about _Rose Read_ (an one-shot _*ahem*_ originally titled _And I am Not)._


	2. The Talk

**Chapter Summary: **That Alice! Okay, when I get back, Jasper or no Jasper, I'm going to tear her into little, tiny vampire bits. And then hide the pieces in different places. It'll take her months to reconstitute. Months.

* * *

I got out of my BMW and went up to the Swan's door. They heard me arrive, but at least they were old-fashioned in this: they expect you to come to the door.

Honking my horn? In my day, if that was done, it was the kiss of death, and not only for the relationship, for the father would never allow the daughter to see that spoilt brat of a boy again, but for the boy when he got home just a little bit later, empty handed, …

And with his own father, waiting at the door, with the strap at the ready.

Families talked back then, and 'it takes a village to raise a child' now, or so they say, but back then, they didn't say it, they did it. A kid throwing rocks at passing cars? He's get a talking to and a whipping from the driver, and that man would drag that kid back home to his mother where he'd get more of the same.

And then … well, have you heard 'wait 'til your father gets home'? Children back then had a real fear of God, because Daddy, in families back then? He _was_ God, so you'd better behave.

Royce came to our door when he was calling on me. Royce knew how to behave and what was proper.

When he wasn't raping and murdering me, that is.

Well, I took care of that little problem.

But I would never dream of a man honking his horn to get me out of the house into his car.

And I would never dream of doing that myself, when calling on Bella.

Until our first … 'date.'

That first time, when I was going to bring her to the bookshop in Seattle, I pulled up to her house, and waited for her to come out, and then my hand moved, by itself, to the steering wheel and almost hit the horn.

And then a miracle occurred, because then God Himself, or one of his angels anyway, stopped my hand from completing the motion that would have forever shamed me, again. Because there was no way I could have stopped myself in time, because I wasn't even aware of what I was doing. I was simply irritated that Bella was taking so much time. And didn't she know I was there? And what was her problem?

But, miraculously, my hand stopped itself, and I realized, looking at my hand, and then, turning my eyes inward, and looking at myself …

I realized what a mean sniveling coward I am.

I mean, here I am, picking Bella up for her first date, and how am I treating her already before she even gets in the car? That's why the boy gets out of his car and says hello to the father at the door and all that decorum requires, to show respect for the girl, even in the face of having to meet with the father and the rest of the family, and be judged by them.

Yes, the boy must stand on his own two feet, and stand for the safety of the girl to her entire family. That takes courage. Blasting the horn? "I have a car, I'm taking you out, you come to me."

Who would want to go with a boy like that?

Not that I'm a boy, or anything, but suddenly I saw how much Emmett had to do in everything, even in the little things, _particularly_ in the little things, to convince me that I wasn't a damaged and twisted and worthless monster that I had come to see myself as.

Suddenly, I saw how hard that was to do, and how revealing it is of myself of how automatic it was for me to disrespect Bella in the little things.

Little things add up. Just ask Edward.

I rapped on the door and heard ponderous footsteps.

Charlie opened the door. He wouldn't look at me.

That was normal.

But what wasn't was that he answered the door, not Bella.

Dread lodged itself in the pit of my stomach.

"Rosalie," Charlie said to the porch.

"Chief Swan," I answered respectfully, but evenly. It took me a while to get the tone just right so I wouldn't intimidate him. It took me a while to wear clothes _they_ thought to be causal enough.

My first date I _was_ wearing casual clothes … for me.

But those clothes, and my tone, and my friendly smile scared poor Charlie to death, that first date.

It seems like every person with a name that ends, or ended, with Swan needs to be handled with care.

For example, the visit to the Dwyers in Florida?

I shook my head, remembering poor little flighty Renée. Poor little flighty _insightful_ Renée. O, the litany of excuses I had to come up with: I was lactose intolerant, gluten intolerant, vegan, but allergic to strawberries and peanuts and water had to be distilled, not filtered, and, no, I don't need vitamin D, even though all this direct sunlight is very bad for my skin condition and …

Remind me not have overnight stays at human houses anymore.

And then there was the question of what was the sister of Edward, who you just called off a wedding with, right, Bella? doing here on a visit, really, and, wait, she'll share _your room? _… and you _don't need another bed?_

I saw the wheels turning in Renée head through her thoughtful, skeptical, cautious eyes that missed nothing. Her wheels turned so very much faster than Charlie's do. And I saw the light go on behind those eyes as she jumped from conclusion to conclusion, even as both Bella and I worked so hard to tell Renée it wasn't like that.

I think we did protest a bit too much, which only cemented in her mind what she was sure she saw between us.

Renée was quiet and thoughtful around us for a day, but the next morning, when we came out of 'Bella's room' (the spare bedroom), Renée asked Bella if we were practicing safe sex.

_'Holy Crow, Renée!'_ was all Bella could say, and I was thankful I was standing a bit in front of Bella, because the scent coming from her blush was almost too hard for me to manage already. The hunger pangs would have been killing me if I weren't dead already. Seeing Bella turn tomato-red like that? Good thing she was hiding herself behind me.

But it was up to me to clear the misunderstanding, so I answered that we weren't practicing any sex at all.

Renée's eyes narrowed as she said an unconvinced 'Uh-huh' and mentioned how cool-as-a-cucumber I was. 'Very convincing,' she added, as if complimenting how believable the lie was.

I am a very convincing liar. One of the best in the world, in fact. As a vampire, you have to hone that skill to perfection, especially if you are living among humans for more than a week or so. The Cullens and I live with humans in an area for years. I am a convincing liar.

The best. Of course. I am, after all, Rosalie Lillian Hale. I'm the best at everything I undertake.

But in this case I wasn't lying at all, for I didn't have to lie: I was being entirely truthful.

So annoying that: when you are telling the truth, but there's nothing you can say to credit your claim, that if you say more, you only make others more firmly convinced otherwise.

So I just had to let it go.

Renée was cool and quiet with us for the rest of the visit.

But then, on the day we were leaving, there was a breakthrough for her.

'You know I'll always love you, Bella,' Renée said to her daughter, and then added, 'no matter what.'

And then she embraced her child, and there were not a few tears coming from Renée's eyes, and I think I maybe smelled lavendar-and-freesia-scented salt as well, and perhaps Renée's blouse had a bit of wetness on its shoulder where Bella had rested her head in their embrace.

Then Renée turned to me and said, 'take care of my baby, please.'

And as I nodded to her, Bella was complaining that she wasn't a baby, but then we simply had to go through the TSA checkpoint to make it to our gate.

Renée has an interesting relationship with the concept of time.

So Renée was onto us right away, but I'm pretty sure that realization hasn't reached Charlie, with her abiding concern of how Bella should talk to her father in her own time (and to her mother weekly, at least), and her complete lack of communication with her former husband, except in the life-threatening emergencies …

… that she knows about.

So I was pretty sure Charlie wasn't informed of the … nature of our relationship, and, up to now? Figuring it out on his own? Seeing us as a man sees us? Mulling over things in that thoughtful way he mulls over things, … that is: not if he can help it?

Yes, the wheels in Charlie's mind do turn, slowly. But even if Charlie's wheels turn slowly, they do turn. They were turning right now, and I didn't like the direction they were going, because he usually said that one word of greeting and let us be.

But now he wasn't doing that. He wasn't doing anything, but he was definitely blocking the entrance. Charlie had something to say to me.

I braced myself.

"Uh," he began, just like his daughter, "I don't know what's going on here, Rosalie …"

If I had a heart, it would have stopped.

Just like Charlie's speech did.

I was looking right at him, trying to read anything. His heart rate was elevated, and his face was stone, and he would not look at me.

No, there: he just did, giving me a furtive glance.

"You know I've never liked you Cullens, …" he began again.

This was going from bad to worse, but I could not let this slip of his pass.

"Chief Swan," I said, interrupting and getting his attention, "I'm a Hale, not a Cullen."

Charlie looked at me and looked away quickly.

"You what I mean," he muttered apologetically, but also surlily.

"I do," I said firmly. "But before you lump me with them, and before you blame them or us for anything or everything that has happened, let me just say that you may not like us, and there may be many good reasons for that, but let me just tell you something about 'you Cullens' …"

But I didn't get to finish what I about to say, because Charlie raised his hand and looked at me.

"Just let me finish, all right?" he demanded, raising his voice, for him, that is.

I crossed my arms and clenched my jaw, waiting, but you could be sure he would get back whatever he was planning on giving, and in spades at that. To Hell with him being Bella's father.

And this was supposed to be such a nice weekend, too, with me being with Bella the whole time, but now fights at home and fights here?

Why couldn't the whole world just leave the two of us alone? We had enough obstacles to overcome to make this whatever-it-is have even a hope of working, but all this heat from the outside, too? What next? A wolf attack or another Volturi visit, for goodness sake!

He put his hand down.

"Look," he said more quickly, as if he were forcing the words out, "what I'm trying to say is this, okay? I thought with, you know …" Here Charlie slowed down to a more measured way of speaking. "I mean, with the wedding off, I thought, frankly, it was going to go really, really badly for Bella again, and that first month after, I tried not to …"

Charlie looked _more_ away from me, and swallowed. He continued: "… to, you know, watch her for when she … you know, like that time around last Christmas …"

Charlie was quiet for a moment.

I uncrossed my arms and relaxed, realizing he was saying something vital for him.

Because Bella is vital to him, just as she is for me.

Speaking of which …

_Thip-thip-thip._

I heard the nearly silent sounds of bare and wet feet hitting hardwood floors, and her unmistakeable scent of lavender and freesia wafted down with the very industrial soapy smell.

Lavendar-scented soap? It had _nothing_ on Bella. Nothing.

"Hey, Dad …?" Bella's voice barked from upstairs.

Charlie grimaced and called back up: "Yeah?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Is somebody at the door?" Bella's voice was confused now, her previous question forgotten.

"Yeah, Bella, Rosalie's here." Charlie's voice was tinged with annoyance.

Charlie was always on time, and Bella … well, Bella had timeliness issues; one of the few traits she inherited from her mother.

_"Shoot!"_ Bella cursed under her breath. "What time is it, Dad?" she asked

But her feet were already _thip-thip-thipping_ to her room. I could hear the air and the towel caressing her body as she ran, and the image that came to mind …

Well, let's just say I added both 'air' and 'towels' that were objects of my burning jealousy.

I am a very, very possessive creature, as much as I try to quell that and hide it from … well, Bella and everybody, but I'm still very aware, and very jealous, of anything that caresses my Bella, be it somebody's eyes (which I must fight not to rip right out) or a towel or even the air.

Yes, I hate the air. I hate everything that gets between me and Bella. Deal with it. I have to.

"It's eight-oh-three, Bella," Charlie called back up, unaware that he was talking to that hated air and a now closed bedroom door, which I also now hate, as it keeps me from her, too.

"Eight-oh-three," Charlie repeated, and then looked at me. "And here you are at eight pm on the dot, on time, as always. You'd think you were my daughter, the way you keep time like the Germans do."

I looked right into his eye. "Respecting another person's time respects them," I averred.

He looked away. "Why don't you come in," he suggested quietly and stepped away from the door, waving me to the couch.

I went in and sat on the edge. Charlie sank into his easy chair.

He looked very old and very tired for a man who was just barely in his forties. He blew out a long, slow breath.

"Now, about Bella …" he began.

_And her hair, _I added ruefully.

"Look, Chief Swan, I had _nothing_ to do with this," I countered quickly, "If I knew …"

"No, Rosalie, you listen to me now," Charlie cut me off, glaring at me.

I held up my hands, surrendering the floor to him.

"I never say anything. I just watch all the time," Charlie complained, "and now I have something to say, I'm going to say it before Bella comes down and you see her and what I have to say gets lost in all that."

I waited, patiently, for Charlie to say his piece, my face composed even as I fought the urge just to speed up the stairs faster than human eyes could follow, burst right through Bella's door, splintering it, and absorbing the damage done before launching into a tirade that she would carry with her forever.

But I waited.

Patiently.

For me, that is.

And as I waited, that little hummingbird heartbeat of Bella's kept calling my attention to her, even as it told me how dreadfully nervous she was. And as I waited on Charlie my perfected hearing also heard Bella's scrambling to pack her duffle bag with blue jeans and brown sweaters and those ratty pajamas that are so signature her.

I don't why she bothers packing these things, she knows we're going to get into a fight about them.

Charlie continued: "And you're wrong, Rosalie, this has everything to do with you. Everything. Your family, too, but you, particularly."

Charlie looked at me significantly.

So I did, too. I took a look at myself, as I do everyday.

Was I to blame for what Bella chose to do?

Of course not. She was her own person; she made her own choices, just as I did, so she had to take responsibility for what she chose to do, for everything she chose to do, including pursuing Edward, even knowing what he is, then befriending _that dog_ Jacob, even knowing he put his heart on the line for her (and, I had to admit in his defense, who wouldn't?), and then coming up to my room instead of just leaving me alone, knowing full well, as she got deeper into this, that she was putting everything at risk: her engagement and almost marriage, everything.

So this was entirely her choice.

But.

Haven't I been pushing her to be herself? Just like Alice has? Haven't I been hoping the best for her, as I saw it, from the first second she entered our lives? Haven't I made known my preferences though overt means as well as subtle ones? Scolding, yes, but also looks and gestures? I mean I just simply looked away as she stuttered her way through that gushing she called her wedding speech, but she saw my thoughts better than Edward did.

To her, perhaps, I'm so transparent, she reads me like a book. Like how I can read the book in the back seat of my BMW, then she takes that and makes conclusions only she could make.

'Be yourself, Bella, be brave and buck up!' my thoughts scold.

And her conclusion is: 'Oh, cutting off all my hair is brave; I'll do that. Rosalie will be so pleased!'

I sighed. "You're right, Chief Swan," I admitted from my self-examination. "This is all due to me, and I apologize for causing you this trouble."

Charlie look at me in puzzlement. "'Apologize'?" he asked, "'trouble'? Rosalie, what are you talking about?"

For an over-protective father who seemed to have rather conservative views, he was mighty accepting of all this. I was about to clarify when I heard the _clunk-clunking_ of Bella's now shoed feet on the stairs.

Charlie heard it, too, and turned to the sound.

"You brush your teeth?" he called out.

Ever since I brought it to his attention that Bella hadn't had proper dental care in years, he scheduled a teeth cleaning right away (with Alice's help; that man couldn't find his way around a phone book. Typical male) and became somewhat draconian on the point of Bella's oral hygiene and habits.

"I'll do that at the Cullen's, Dad," she called back.

Wait. He was still allowing her out of their house? And to ours?

"No, you won't, you'll do it here, and you'll use the timer," he commanded.

"Dad, I'm already late!" she whined, still out of sight.

"No, Bella," Charlie corrected with finality, "your weekend doesn't start until after all your chores are done, including that."

_"Jeez! _I'm almost nineteen already!" she complained, but I heard her feet trod obediently back up the stairs.

"And this'll be the case when you're thirty-nine, too, if you're still under this roof, so start getting used to it now," he called up the stairs after her.

Then he muttered to himself, very clearly for me, _'Kids these days.'_

But I could hear the heartbreaking love of a father in his faint complaint.

Then he turned to me. "You make sure she brushes her teeth after every meal," he ordered.

I pressed my lips together. Reminding him now that it was _I_ who had pointed out this lapse wouldn't be helpful.

So I simply nodded a 'Yessir' to him.

Charlie collected himself. "Now, where was I?" he asked.

This was the most I've heard him say ever. It probably was the most he had ever said. I suppose he could then be forgiven for being lost in his own words.

"You were telling me something about 'you Cullens' …" I prompted, fighting to keep the irony out of my voice.

"Oh," said Charlie, embarrassed.

Charlie didn't blush like Bella did, instead, when he was embarrassed he took himself away, either by clamming up or by averting his eyes. His eyes moved away from me again, but he did continue.

"Well, what I was saying was this. Bella's whole life was Edward, and I was really worried after things … well, things didn't work out, and, yes, she called it off, but I was really … concerned that she'd just disappear into herself, and for the first month it looked like things were going that way, …"

And I remember that first month, a month ago, where I became concerned myself, and then angry that Bella wouldn't reach out to, well, me, or even Alice, and I berated my own pride and pettiness in not seeing earlier that she couldn't possibly do that, being who she was.

A whole month wasted because I was standing on some principle.

"But then," Charlie's voice recalled me to him, "a miracle happened."

I had no idea what he was talking about.

"I mean," he said to my mystified look, "there's your family, and Bella just said no to you all by calling off the wedding, but there Alice was, and here you are, and the rest of the family, obviously, letting her stay over and stuff, and, well, you're treating her like …"

Charlie looked away for a second, but then he called forth some internal reserve of his.

"You're treating her like family, not like a girl who just cut you all off, but like somebody you all love …" Charlie's voice was awed, but then he became aware of what he was saying, and he quickly looked away and mumbled, "or something."

He cleared his throat.

"And that's what I wanted to say. I don't know why your whole family is doing this now, but I saw how devastated she was when … well, the last time when she thought she had nobody to talk to and no house to visit, and no friends she admired and looked up to and liked to play with …" Again the embarrassment. "Or whatever it is you teenage girls do, you know, when you get together."

I did know what 'us teenage girls did,' but I think Charlie is better off, also, in his not knowing.

"So, uh," Charlie concluded weakly, "thanks. Thanks for taking her back in. And I have no idea why you would do that, that you would look after her, after all this, but that's what I wanted to say. I wanted to say thanks."

Charlie looked at me for a second and then looked away quickly.

After a moment, he whispered, "You were going to say something to me about your family?"

I looked at Charlie, and saw in him a man so hurt by a family, because now I saw when a daughter gets hurt, the father suffers, perhaps the most. But I saw him struggling to look beyond his hurt, trying to see us as maybe not the enemy.

It was my turn to be quiet and thoughtful.

"I was just going to say," I said, "that … well, Jasper and I lost our parents …" this was true "… and Esme, our aunt …" a lie "took us in …" true "and Carlisle …"

I paused, and said firmly to Charlie's listening, understanding eyes. "Well, what I wanted to say is, that 'we Cullens' may be private people, and we make mistakes, but … we look after our own. That's all. Carlisle took us all in, and now we're family, and we take care of family."

"And Bella's family," Charlie concluded for me.

"Yes," I said, "Bella's family."

"Even after all this," Charlie added.

"Yes," I said, then affirmed: "she's family."

Charlie was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Thanks," he said quietly. Then: "'Cause, for me, Bella's …"

Then he looked away, and cleared his throat.

He looked back, "What about you?"

I shrugged. "What about me?"

"Well I see Alice and your brother, but I thought you and that big boy … Emmett, right? I thought you two were …?"

I shrugged again, "Yeah," I said. Children these days say 'yeah,' I've noticed. "We were," _in Emmett's mind,_ "but you know how it is in high school, but then you go off to college, and he went to school in Alaska, and I went to Dartmouth, and …"

I shrugged again.

Charlie nodded solemnly.

"Bella's going to Dartmouth," he said thoughtfully.

"Looking forward to seeing her there when school starts again after summer break," I said, not chipper, because Alice is 'chipper,' but I did say it lightly.

"You look after my baby when she gets there, okay?" he demanded.

I was about to answer but I heard Bella's quiet footsteps having come down the stairs, and her listening to the end of this conversation, so I knew when she turned the corner.

"I'm not a baby any more, Dad," she said.

And I saw her.

I was ready for anything. I was willing to accept her appearance, no matter what she had done to herself. Baldness, multiple body piercings, tattoos, goth-grrl make-up.

Anything.

But I was wrong, for I didn't expect this. She had just so totally …

I said the only (polite) thing I could manage.

"Oh, my God!" I gasped.

* * *

**Chapter end notes:**

[1] Bella and Rosalie got into a fight about Bella's pjs on their last sleep over (chapter 20 of _Rose Read _that I wrote for Jocelyn Torrent and have now reposted as my own one-shot titled _Agnus Dei_). Esme rescued the situation by lending Bella her pjs.

[2] Vampires press their lips together to remain silent. If they bite their tongue, there's the embarrassing explanations of why are you eating rocks and, oh, that's your tongue? and it's putting itself back together how? Remember girls, vampires have razor-sharp teeth (sharper, even), so when they ask for you to do a little french kissing, a polite 'No, thank you' is the best answer there.


	3. Sacrifice

**Chapter Summary: **Do I take things for granted? Today forcefully impressed this realization on me that I do. And in something as small as this, with me so quick to judge and to condemn, and Bella trying so, so hard for me. And she picked me why again?

* * *

Bella and I walked from the garage after I had parked the BMW.

The trip back from Charlie's had been interesting — a quiet ride — because the initial shock of seeing Bella looking like she looked just didn't fade away.

I mean, I'm sure Charlie said something as we left, something about bedtimes and making sure Bella had a key if he was still out fishing on Sunday when she was returned. I'm sure of it. And I'm sure I said something appropriate in response.

I could even repeat every word, if I bothered to care enough.

But I don't.

I didn't even realize I was speeding … for me … until Bella asked, white-knuckled, if I were planning on killing her quickly by crashing into an obliging tree or just by scaring her to death with these hairpin turns on back country roads.

I slowed down from 180 mph to a more reasonable speed. I had disabled the electronic speed inhibitors; I could never understand why would they artificially limit an M3 to a mere 150 mph speed. Who would cripple a car like that? But then Bella asked if we could at least slow down below three digits, so I slowed to a crawl.

I would have considered just driving, and not stopping, forever. Who needs the Cullens anyway?

Bella was a big girl now, too, right? She didn't need to see her father anymore, right?

Like I said, I would have considered that, if Alice's 'friendly' reminder in the form of a text message hadn't preempted me.

So here we were, holding hands, at Bella's request, walking to the door.

Too slowly for somebody.

A white flash, even for my eyes, projected a gleeful cry of 'Belllll-laaah!' as it intercepted us and swung the girl in question in a slow and lazy circle.

For us that is.

Bella said: "Alice, if you don't put me down, I'm gonna puke!"

Alice did put her down, but then had to hold up my one and only (and dizzy) love, as she tended to stagger sideways for a moment as she regained what little balance she had.

"Didn't I tell you she did it? Didn't I?" Alice crowed.

"You told her?" Bella pouted to Alice.

And there Alice stood, pleased as punch with her protégée.

I crossed my arms. "She told me _nothing!" _I snarled, "and made me assume the worst! The worst!"

"Like what?" Bella asked in confusion. "Like, I had broken my neck or died or something?"

"No!" My narrowed eyes shot daggers at Alice whose grin remained firmly fixed in place, undimmed by my foul mood.

My eyes also (re)confirmed that Bella still had every beautiful strand of chocolate brown hair still on her head.

Yes, she was still pre-Alien³ Ripley, I was relieved to see.

And, yes, she was still surrounded by monsters scarier than any alien Ridley Scott or H.R. Giger could imagine.

Except this Ripley here likes 'hanging' out with us monsters, for some inexplicable reason.

And asking questions.

"Well, then, like what?" she demanded, looking at me quizzically.

I fumed at Alice, and at Bella for even making me think she might pull a stunt like that.

"Nothing!" was all I could bark in return, embarrassed out of my mind that I envisioned such a calamity as Bella shorn. Such a silly notion of mine that I so vainly entertained, whipping myself into such a state. And now I was embarrassed that I was embarrassed, which came out as anger.

Alice sniggered.

"Never mind the touchy blond," Alice exclaimed. "Look at you, Bella, just look at you!"

Alice wrapped Bella in a bear hug, lifting her up.

"Jeez! Alice!" Bella complained. "It's not like you've never seen me in a dress before …"

For standing before us was not the girl-next-door Bella wearing blue jeans and a brown sweater, but was a sweet little girl in a red maxi halter dress with an ivory floral print.

A sweet little modest girl, she wore a white shawl over her shoulders.

Bella Swan was in a dress.

"Yes," answered Alice excitedly, "but this is the first time _you_ went shopping for a dress …"

"… with Charlie …" added Bella in edgewise, which was the only way to speak when Alice was on a tear.

"… and decided to wear it!" squealed Alice with delight. "I never thought I would see the day when you're dressier than Rosalie. Look at you two," she exclaimed, "you in a dress and Rosalie in blue jeans!" Then Alice turned to me. "Doesn't she look amazing, Rosalie?"

Here Alice nodded her head up-and-down, up-and-down, demanding my agreement.

Bella looked to me, hopefully, seeking my approval.

I pursed my lips.

"Well," I said critically, "let's see."

A touch of fear entered Bella's eyes as I circled her completely, examining her head to toe.

Bella stood up straighter under my sharp gaze, straightening her dress by pulling down on it was a nervous motion and then smoothing out an imagined wrinkle.

As if that would help her case.

"_The dress is too rust a color for her, it matches neither her hair nor her eyes, and the ivory doesn't match her skin tone at all, it should have been white or silver," _ I buzzed to Alice. _"She's a Winter, after all."_

"_Yes, but …" _Alice began.

"_And the fabric,"_ I added, _"what is it, cotton? This house dress probably costs much less than one hundred dollars, you can tell by the quality of the cut and the stitching of the hem."_

Alice glared at me, so I continued my critique in silence.

Like for example the black flats with white socks, not stockings? With the white shawl?

She looked like a six-year-old.

On top of that, the flats were cheap shoes. They couldn't have been more than thirty dollars, and it showed. And, if she wore those flats for any length of time, she'd feel it. You spend good money on shoes, and you get good shoes that comfort you as they conform to you. The flats Bella was wearing were not good shoes; I could see them biting into the back of her ankles.

I finished my circle around Bella and came to face her.

"Well," Bella asked timidly, "what do you think?"

"_Lie, Rosalie!"_ Alice snarled. _"Lie your ass off!"_

Bella looked in annoyance between me and Alice who was giving me a death glare.

"If you two want to have a conversation without me, I can just go back home, you know," Bella said with irritation.

Alice cleared her throat. "I was just reminding Rosalie what I told her earlier today," she told Bella as she gave me a very arch expression.

Bella raised her eyebrow at me, so I clarified. "No, Bella," I said, "Alice was telling me to lie, but I'm not going to do that." I put my hands on her shoulders. "I'm going to tell you what I really think."

"Which is …?" Bella asked, bracing herself.

"What I think is, Bella," I looked her right in the eye. "God, you look so beautiful!"

Because that was what I really thought, for I saw through her bumbling attempt, it was, truly, an attempt. She was playing dress up, and it so went against her nature, and that really showed, but she was dressing up for me.

And that really showed, too.

And she was spending money she couldn't afford to spend. The dress was a cheap house dress in my eyes, but I was a partner in a hedge fund pushing past the billion dollar ceiling. Bella had to work at the Newton's outfitters store for pocket money. I realized that the money Bella spent on her dress came out of money she probably needed to spend elsewhere, like food for herself and Charlie. Charlie could support himself on his job, but the addition of a teenaged daughter, although welcomed, was indeed another mouth to feed, and that was a burden on a police chief's salary.

Bella was doing something for me, and I realized she truly had to make an effort to do this little thing: wearing a dress.

With this perspective on Bella's sacrifice, I embraced her tightly.

Bella returned my hug tentatively.

Bella pulled back and looked at Alice, "So you told her to lie because …"

"Because," Alice snapped back, "I thought she was going to get all _Rosalie_ and be all critical."

"I think," I said, "my little sister doesn't know me as well as she thinks she does."

I was looking at Alice smiling proudly at me. Smiling with relief, too.

"I think," Alice added, "you may be right in just this one case."

I snorted at my little pixie sister.

Bella pulled back. "So why the grand examination and the running private conversation between you two?" Then she explained, looking reproachfully at me, "You did look really critical at me when you were circling me, you know."

"I hope I did," I answered right back.

"Um, what?" Bella asked confused.

"Bella," I exclaimed, "you are wearing _a dress!_ Remember the shocked look I'm sure I had on my face when I first saw you?"

Bella grinned.

"So?" she asked after her pleasurable recollection.

"So, how can I admire your beauty if I'm dazzled by it? I had to get a good look at you to confirm what my eyes were seeing."

"Um," Bella said, pleased, "you guys do the dazzling, I'm the dazzl-… um 'dazzlee.'" She paused. "That's a word, right?"

"Bella," I sighed, "there's probably some DVD set or comic book that has that word. I'm not as 'hip' with the modern vernacular as you are."

"Hm," Bella looked at me thoughtfully. "You do look a little like the Dazzler."

"The what?" I asked Bella, displeased that there was another thing that she knew that I didn't.

"You know," Bella explained looking away, "that disco queen super heroine in the comic books …?"

"Oh, really?" I asked. "How so?"

"Well, you're blond and you sparkle …" Bella offered.

Alice giggled, and I sighed.

"Allow me to guess," I said, rolling my eyes: "Should I get a pair of roller skates and a white polyester outfit then?" I asked.

Alice squealed enthusiastically at the idea, clapping her hands and bouncing in place.

"Don't even _think_ it!" I growled at my little sister.

"Why not?" Bella asked, smiling, "I kinda like that idea."

"Oh?" I demanded, crossing my arms. "Tell you what, Bella, I'll put on roller skates when you do."

Bella blanched. "Um, …" she backpedalled, probably seeing very clearly the trip to the hospital, or at least the very serious bruises that her putting on roller skates would produce.

So I moved the conversation away from that topic.

"Let's get you inside, the others are probably beside themselves with curiosity, knowing how Alice takes so much delight in not telling everybody anything."

Alice stuck her tongue out at me. "And spoil the surprise? What if I did tell you, and you went to pick her up expecting this? Do you like boring?"

"Alice," I snarled, "just because you are right does not endear me to you at this moment. _And_ you could have forewarned me about Charlie's need to share while I'm nearly crazed with an imagination running rampant with concern over Bella."

"I thought Charlie was saying nice things to you," Bella said in confusion.

"He did say nice things … eventually," I said exasperatedly. "Look, let's get inside."

As I corralled Bella toward the house, Alice couldn't resist asking why Bella had chosen to play dress-up.

Of course Bella blushed, which gave both of us vampires another unnecessary swallow of venom, and she stammered out that she just felt like wearing a dress, is all.

"Oh, okay," Alice said easily.

But my little sister gave me a sideways glance, full of significance, which I pretended to ignore.

Bella Swan, the world's worse liar, had a reason for dressing up.

I wonder what that could possibly be.

I would find out, I was sure.

Just before we went into the door, Bella turned to me and whispered, "What do you really think, Rosalie?"

I looked at Bella for a second.

"Remember," I said, "when you kept asking if I liked the car show, until I told you I wouldn't any more if you kept asking?"

"I know," Bella answered ashamedly, but then continued doggedly: "but … what do you really think?"

"What I really think," I said with conviction, "is that I'm so proud and pleased and amazed and … dazzled by you, Bella. That's what I think."

"Really?" she asked, with big, round eyes.

"Really," I answered. Yes, we could work on taking her to the next level when she was ready for that. She wasn't ready for that now. What she was ready for was for me to be both honest and appreciative, and my compliments were both, because she looked so much better now in what she saw as dressy clothes, and that smile that she gave me, it wasn't filled with confidence, but it was filled with just a little bit of joy that she pleased me.

And if she wasn't wearing that smile, I wouldn't want to see her in one of my Jimmy Choo gowns, anyway. I'd rather have her in blue jeans and that smile than dressy and sad. Always.

We went in with Bella glowing. We got the full-court press from Esme. The way she squealed, you would think Bella was Errol Flynn, coming for a personal visit, right here in Forks, Washington. Or who was the teen idol these days? Zac Enron? That's how Esme looked like when she saw Bella, a squealing fan girl on a dream date with Zac Enron or whomever.

_My family!_ I thought ruefully to myself. I've been with them for more than eighty years now. I don't know how I've managed to put up with them for all this time.

* * *

**Chapter end notes:**

[1] The Dazzler was a comic book heroine that could 'dazzle' her opponents with 'bubbles' of light. She had blond, wavy hair, and roller-skated about in her white polyester suit, doing good deeds. She was a dancing queen at a disco bar. I'm not making any of this up.

[2] Of course, it's Zac Efron, not Zac Enron. Rosalie isn't very hip on modern teen idols, either. I'm not sure if she cares all that much either way. You could ask her, if you'd like. And for those of you saying 'Oh, but Zac Efron is so old news. He's so 2006,' I have only this to say: this story is set in 2006, okay?


	4. A Request

**Chapter Summary: **'Baby sleep, gently sleep …' Perhaps this wasn't exactly the ending to the day that Bella had wanted, but … well, me holding her in my arms? And I didn't think there was the possibility of solace in this Now.

* * *

"So," I said now that we were safely ensconced in our room.

Our room. Not just my room anymore. Our room.

"So?" Bella asked defensively.

"So, are you going to tell me what the occasion is?" I clarified, and I waved at my Bella in her prim and proper little dress.

"Don't you like?" Bella asked, hurt.

"Very much," I answered right away.

"Well, then, that's it," Bella said shyly.

"Bella …" I began, disbelievingly.

"Look, Rose," Bella said, "I'm really tired. I had a long day shopping with Charlie and then, you know, scared to death what you would think, you know? Can I just go to bed now?"

I looked at Bella. She did look more than keyed up and wrung out. Exhausted: tired and wired.

I did notice one thing, however: she called me 'Rose.' She glowed earlier at my compliment to her dress, but her now, calling me that? I think I may have glowed a little bit, even listening to her tiredness.

"Certainly," I agreed solicitously, "I'll get Esme to lend you her …"

"No," Bella said firmly.

"Bella, really," I said patently, "it's no trouble for us, for Esme, to lend you her pajamas; she has plenty. It'll be her pleasure, in fact, and …"

"No," Bella said again, "I brought my own pjs, and I'm gonna wear them."

"Bella," I tried again, reasonably.

"Rosalie," Bella cut me off, picking up her bag. Then: "No. Okay? Just no."

She glared at me.

I closed my eyes for a second and reopened them.

She was standing so stiffly, her jaw locked.

I sighed, giving in. "Okay," I breathed out, looking away. I mean, I could fight her, again, on this, and win, more than likely, but it's been a week since I had last seen her, and I just so want to be with her, and I want her to be happy to be with me.

I thought with regret, however: ratty sweats; ratty, holey sweats.

Well, I suppose if I could accept and love my bald-headed Bella, I could accept and love my Bella in her comfy, plebeian night clothes.

Bella flew to me, planted a light kiss on my cheek — "thanks," she whispered — and raced off to our bathroom. I heard the sounds of Bella disrobing …

Don't think about that. … Too much.

And the sound of Bella putting on those wretched pajamas of hers.

I mean, seriously, what a turn-off!

I called to Bella from behind the closed bathroom door: "Are you brushing your teeth?"

We've bought floss, tooth brushes and tooth paste and stocked our bathroom, just for Bella.

"Jeez, Rosalie! I just brushed them at home!" she whined.

"Yes, I know," I answered, and smiled a very private smile.

I heard Bella sigh; she probably was rolling her eyes, too. Then she opened the door, and I braced myself.

Expecting the wrong thing.

Again.

I looked at her, smiling at me. She was wearing a pink long sleeved cotton top and a mint-colored bottom with a print of white kittens at play. The pajamas were brand new. I could smell they had never been worn until now.

I smiled and shook my head. "You are just full of surprises today, aren't you?"

Bella smiled back, shyly. "I didn't know whether to wear these or the purple set."

"You bought _two_ pairs?" I asked in disbelief. "I can't wait for tomorrow night."

Of course, what did Bella do? She blushed, and it caught me by surprised.

I should have expected Bella's blush, but I didn't. She blushed at anything and everything, and it made it just so hard. Firstly, because it brought her blood right to her cheeks and the pull of that hunger in me is just so terribly painful.

But also, because the way she looked as she was looking away so coquettishly as she blushed?

Oh, I wanted to get her attention back to me, all right, and the scenarios that I came up with to get her fully focused on me were entirely too naughty and fearsome for a sweet little girl like Bella who has only just graduated high school.

It was just so hard, restraining myself from throwing myself at her and carrying her off … right to the bed.

But restrain myself I did. If we were going to make this last, we had to work with each other's pacing. Rushing into things? I've seen that people who rush into things also rush right out.

I waved to the bed, and Bella went to it and snuck under the covers, then she turned to me, giving me her totally superfluous big eyes and patted the top of the covers.

'Totally superfluous' because I was going there, anyway.

I smiled faintly and ask her if she could wait while I changed.

It seemed that Bella could manage the wait … barely.

I went to my walk-in closet and chose my most demure piece, my Farr West Georgette slip (yes, that is my most demure piece), changed quickly into it and moved to the bed, resting on top of the covers, snuggling next to Bella who was beneath them.

I wrapped my arm around her, and she took my hand and kissed it.

"How did you get Charlie to go shopping with you?" I asked Bella. Charlie didn't seem like the kind of person who would be interested in shopping excursion, first of all, and, if at all, wasn't interested in one to select women's wear. I would think that would be something rather far down his priority list.

Bella was thoughtful for a moment, then she said quietly: "Charlie told me he was a bad father."

It was my turn to be introspective for a moment. Given the history of my own fathers, both stern and distant Walter Hale, then Carlisle Cullen, who, in 'kindness,' turned me into a monster, what Bella said was incomprehensible. I would have been lucky to have a father like Charlie.

I haven't been lucky much, if you haven't noticed.

"What would have him make a statement like that?" I asked.

"He said …" Bella paused. "He said he had never spent time with me my whole life, and now, he never gets to spend time with me, and he feels he's to blame for me ending up in the hospital back in Phoenix and then broken-hearted, twice." She paused again. "I mean, I totally tried to tell him he was great and none of this was his fault and I wasn't broken-hearted, but I just couldn't get through to him at all, and so …"

She, like her father, turned her head a little bit to catch me in the corner of her eye, then she looked away again.

"Well, I ran out of, you know, pads this last week, and he was doing a Costco run, so I said 'let's do that together,' since he said he wanted to start doing things with me …"

I could feel Bella's small smile. "He said that wasn't particularly what he wanted to do together, and I said, you know, us doing things together meant little stuff like that, too, and I told him it was really hard for me to ask him in the first place, just like it was really hard for him to consider doing anything with me, and so … well, he said okay, and then that lead to a little bit more, you see, because we eventually ended up at J.C. Penney's in Sequim and …"

"In Sequim?" I interrupted.

"Yeah," she complained quietly, "Forks is just so small!"

Then she continued. "Well, he helped pick out the dresses, you know?"

"Dress_es?"_ I asked incredulously, emphasizing the plurality of the word.

"Um, I meant … Gah, Rose, forget I said that, okay? 'cause … well, just forget it, okay?" Bella pleaded.

I smiled again as she mumbled to herself regretfully, "So much for that surprise …"

"Bella," I reassured her, "if you are planning more like this evening, I can assure you I will be very pleasantly surprised and delighted whenever you spring it on me."

"Really?" Bella asked again hopefully.

She surely has that pleading 'really' request down.

"Yes, really," I answered confidently, and I felt Bella's relief in my confidence.

My confidence in her.

It was quiet for a moment.

"So," I essayed.

"So?" Bella asked again timidly.

"So, dresses, or one dress so far, and two new sets of PJs …" I began, leaving the opening for her to fill.

"Yeah?" Bella said.

Of course, she wouldn't fill an opening given to her.

"So," I pressed forward into the silence, "did you see anything special about this weekend that we're just spending here? Or," I added, _"what_ did you see happening this weekend?"

"Well …" she began, and then stopped for a moment. "I kinda … you know … saw us … you know …"

Bella was quiet again for a moment, then whispered very, very quietly: "… doing it."

And I'm surprised I even heard that, because she immediately buried her head under her pillow.

I waited for her heart rate to come down from its tachyarrhythmia.

"Doing what?" I asked, getting the innocence and confusion in my voice just right.

Bella's head remained under the pillow, but then she pulled it down and cradled it, encircling it with her body in a fœtal-like embrace.

"Well," she tried again, "like, I told you that I love you … and … and … you said that back to me, so … you know …"

"Yes," I prompted.

"And we're kissing now, too …" she continued.

I was really enjoying this game. "I'm still with you," I contributed.

"So I thought …" she barely got out, "we could, you know, sleep together. You know. This weekend. Like tonight. You know."

Golly, gee! Bella was just so seductive, wasn't she!

But it couldn't hurt too much to have a bit more fun, could it? I worked hard in not revealing the wicked smile in my voice.

"But, Bella, I don't sleep, so …" I began innocently.

"_Jeez, Rose! _You _know_ what I mean!" Bella burst out fiercely but also quietly, not wanting the other sensitive ears in the house to hear any of this.

Bella is just so innocent about how fine-tuned and powerful vampire hearing is.

Bella is just so innocent about many things. But that's another topic entirely.

But every vampire in the house did indeed hear Bella's request, despite her desperate attempt to make it as humanly quiet as she could make it (made in a way only Bella could). I heard Jasper's very quiet admonishment to Alice to contain herself as I heard Alice very much (but very silently) _not _contain herself. I heard her pumping her fist in the air repeatedly.

But I had had enough fun for tonight, and so had Bella, judging from the edge of irritation creeping into the tone of her voice.

"Yes," I said, acknowledging her, "I know what you mean."

"And so …?" Bella asked, voice an intermingling of bravery, fear, and a touch of hope.

"And so I'm wondering if this be the case why you're wearing PJs at all?" I asked.

"You don't like my PJs?" she asked sadly.

"I like them very much, Bella. Very much," then I added, "you look cute in them."

"'Cute.'" Bella repeated sounding disappointed.

"Yes, Bella, 'cute,' and a whole bunch of other things besides that which I haven't told you because then it would take a long time for you to come out from under the covers. So that begs the question as to why you are wearing them if your plan was to be doing things that entailed you not wearing them."

"Well, I'm not like you, Rosalie," Bella said. "I don't know how any of this works, and …"

Bella was right about not being like me. Something I was thankful nearly every minute I was with her.

"And …?" I prompted.

"And I'm shy," Bella said, squeezing the pillow tighter to herself.

"Yes, I gathered that." I said kindly. She was indeed shy, and cute, and so, so sweet.

Edible, even.

"So," I said, taking charge of this situation, because Bella definitely wasn't.

But all I could come up with was: "… okay."

"'Okay'?" Bella asked in confusion, "'Okay' what?"

"I mean," I said, "'okay' or 'yes.'" And then I clarified, "We'll 'sleep together.'"

I felt I had to tread carefully with terminology. Bella was being so brave in making this request, but I don't think she was ready for me to say: 'Okay, let's fuck.'

I felt surprise coming from Bella: "Um, wow! Okay, who are you?"

I could understand Bella's surprise. I am very much of the 'Old School' and I believe things need to take their time, they cannot be rushed. So you are probably saying, 'well, isn't this rushed?'

No, it isn't. Bella made this request. She's ready now. And as for me?

Well, I'm ready, too.

I'm so, so ready. I've been ready for quite some time.

This isn't rushing things at all.

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"Okay, it was like a year before you talked with me at all …" Bella began.

"Bella, I was speaking with you the first day you came here," I countered, put out.

"Rosalie, snarling about me and at me doesn't count as talking with me," Bella said reproachfully.

"Point taken," I acceded ruefully.

"Then it was like months before you let me say 'I love you,'" she continued, "and now it's like days after you say 'I love you' back, I just ask and you're like, 'okay' right away?" Then Bella paused for a moment and asked: "Was it the dress?"

"I did say you look cute in it," I answered smiling.

But it was more that just the dress. It was everything. Bella snuggling with me? God, that felt so good, but also so bad, because it felt like all I needed was to do much more than snuggling when she sat into my lap and moulded herself into me as we've been watching movies these days.

And then her sweet little careful kisses? Where I was the one who had to break off so that she could breathe?

Do you know how much I hate having to break off from her kisses?

And then, worst of all, there were her eyes.

She'd been giving me the 'fuck-me' eyes for more than a week now.

I don't know how in the world Edward lasted so long with Bella giving him the 'fuck-me' eyes, month after month. Maybe he was just using Bella as a front to hide the fact that he had no preference for women at all. Perhaps he was castrated before he was turned?

But the first time she gave me the 'fuck-me' eyes, the only way I could do to stop myself from taking her right in front of my family was to look away. That didn't stop her from giving me those looks from time to time. And saying: 'Bella, could you not give me those fuck-me eyes?' I'm sure she would be embarrassed at first (after all, when isn't she?), but then my request would only have the reverse of the desired effect. 'Am I giving you the "fuck-me" eyes now, Rosalie?' she would tease, as she gave me the look, again and again.

Yes, me asking her to stop tempting me so deliciously would have disastrous consequences.

"Wow!" said Bella.

"Oh, come on, Bella, don't act so surprised!" I said with a touch of annoyance. "It's not like you didn't expect this."

"This?" Bella said, sounding actually surprised. "No, Rose, me going up to your room to ask you why you didn't like my speech leading us to here? I did _not_ see this coming from a million miles away." She was quiet for a second. "Did you?"

"Why do you think I worked so hard to push you away?" I asked her back.

"But you pushed me away from the beginning," she said.

"Yes," was all I answered.

She mulled over this, and then I felt a dawning of realization in her.

"You mean … you felt this from the beginning …? But I thought you hated me!"

"Oh, did I ever, Bella," I said fervently. "I hated you with everything I am."

"But … but … so why …?" Bella stuttered slowly.

"Bella," I said, "everybody who's ever gotten close to me has hurt me so terribly, terribly badly or have just died, which hurts me more. So I just shut everybody out, and hated them or made them hate me. That way I could be safe. That way people could be exactly what I thought of them, and they couldn't get close enough to hurt me. But there you come into our home, you little human, you, attached to Edward, and you looked right at me, right into me, and saw everything. And I just knew if you got close to me, I would get hurt again, and you would, too, and we weren't the only ones, sweetie."

"Boy, did I ever hate you, Bella," I concluded, "with all my might."

"I'm sorry," Bella said sincerely.

I kissed the top of her head, feeling her rich, thick hair against my lips. "Me, too, sweetie, for everything." _For everything's that's happened, and for everything that will. _For I had no illusions: a human associating with a vampire, and, much worse, with me? There was a certainty in me that she would get hurt much more, just because of what I am and, especially, of how I am.

But the only way I could see a way of preventing that hurt was to leave her, and I couldn't bring myself to do that, for I saw how devastated she was when Edward left her, and I could just feel how empty I was being away from her for even just one week.

One week that felt like forever.

"But you love me now?" Bella asked tentatively.

"Yes, Bella, I love you now," I answered quietly, then added: "with all my might."

"Good," Bella rejoined firmly. Then: "So, uh, … you know?"

I smiled into her hair, breathing her into my being, reveling in everything that she is even as the very scent of her caused an agonizing pull in me.

"Yes, Bella, okay," I said, "I will be with you as you sleep now."

"Um," Bella said, "I was kinda, you know, hoping … well, asking for … more than that, 'cause, like, we've already been doing that for a little while, right? Here and at Renée's, too, and everything, so, I was … well, I think we're ready for the next step, you know?"

"And we are," I said. "So tonight I'll hold you as you sleep …" I began.

"But you've already been doing that!" she complained, interrupting.

"… with no covers between us," I finished.

"Oh," Bella said. "But why just that?"

"It's been a full day for you, Bella, hasn't it? Busy and exhausting?" I asked.

"Yeah …" Bella answered cautiously.

"And you were probably nervous about how I would take your surprise for me, hoping I would like it, but knowing I would criticize you, but then when I didn't? And what I would say to your request, right? And you were ready to fight me on this point because you were sure I would say 'no,' right? But then the shock of me saying 'okay' …" Here I paused, letting all that sink in. "So you're rather keyed up, I would say, am I right?"

Of course I was right, for Edward can read thoughts directly, but the human body is filled with acids and scents and sweat and changes in skin temperature and heart rate variations. A vampire doesn't need to hear the thoughts directly to know almost exactly what you are thinking and feeling.

Bella was quiet. But she squeezed the pillow a little bit harder again.

"And on top of that?" I continued, "The first time, honey? Do you know what the first time is like?" _for I certainly know what my first time was like, being savagely beaten and raped by five men in the snow._ "Worrying, unnecessarily, if you're doing it 'right'? Worrying if the other person feels like you do about this? Worrying about a hundred little things? Worrying that you're worrying too much? Knowing that you don't have to have these worries, that they are taking you away from the moment, but worrying anyway?"

"So," I suggested, "why don't we just let all this built-up expectation and worry wash away and just get comfortable with each other, just be with each other for tonight, and get used to each other without these demands taking us away from each other?"

Bella thought about this. "Okay …" she said reluctantly.

"'Okay,'" I said, "but what?"

"It's just …" Bella said, then began again suspiciously. "Well, you're not saying 'oh, not today, but tomorrow,' and then tomorrow it's another reason not to and … well, like that?"

I could see where she was coming from with her concern, given her all-too-recent history with this particular issue.

"No, honey," I reassured her, "I'm not saying that; I'm not doing that. I want to be with you tonight, and I want you to have a good night's sleep."

"But you do … you know, well, …" Bella's question petered out and lost steam.

"I do what, sweetie? You can ask me." I said gently.

Bella was quiet for a second, then said: "You do want me, too, right? You know, that way?"

"Oh, yes, Bella," I answered. "I do so very much want you."

"Really?" Bella asked as if she were surprised with this answer.

I sighed. "Yes, sweetie, really; very much."

I felt Bella shift, just a bit, more into me, and I could sense Bella's pleased smile, even as I couldn't see it.

"Okay," she said, and this time she said it contentedly.

I lifted up the covers, and slipped in beside Bella. She turned to me, and we kissed.

Very, very lightly, and very, very sweetly.

That kiss and the two of us lying in bed with me holding her felt very, very good.

I don't know how our kisses affect Bella. I really don't. I mean, I know she likes them, because she initiates them. She wouldn't keep doing something she finds odious, would she? So she must like them.

I do, too. I like her sweet, little kisses.

They fill me with sadness. When we embrace thus, and her lips and mine touch, I just feel so connected to her, and I'm not me anymore and I don't have any thoughts or feelings or anything.

I have nothing. I am nothing because I am completely with her, her soft lips and impassioned yet contented look behind her closed eyes and sweet, clasping hands.

But then there always comes that point when she, in her frailty of her human condition, has to pull back, and it hits me then, hard, what I actually am, and I so don't want her to pull back, and I want to clasp her tighter to me, but my hands against her head, if they obeyed me, would literally crush her into me, and that's when it hits me how very ephemeral this all is, how very ephemeral she is, in my arms. And, knowing that? I want to hold her in my arms forever; I want to prolong this very sweet moment for as long as I can, holding onto it, onto her, before the alway ravenous monster I truly am returns to me, full force, as it does, even during our kiss.

But either due to embarrassment or to uncomfortableness of her head (she had to tilt her head back to look up to me, even lying in bed), Bella eventually turned from me and then snuggled into my spooned form. I rewrapped her in my arms.

"This feels just so good," Bella exclaimed quietly, "so right!"

"Yes, it does," I agreed mildly.

But if this felt good for Bella? For me it felt …

What I really wanted to do was to renege on my request to delay our consummation until the morrow.

But after a couple of minutes I had a different problem than my own lust to consider: Bella shivered.

"Am I too cold for you?" I asked her in concern.

"No," Bella denied, "I like it: it's such a relief from the summer air. This wet sticky Washington heat is just so oppressive compared to the dry Phoenix summers I grew up with."

If I were cool balm for her, she was like a furnace to me. I felt like I was embracing fire, that I was a witch being burned at the stake, but instead of the agony I felt in my transformation, Bella was a flame that heated my very being with its warmth, and there was nothing more that I wanted than to be consumed by the living fire of her.

But then Bella shivered again, and I felt her body losing the battle to keep her warm against the iciness of me.

I kissed Bella on the top of her head, getting out of bed, and whispered a "I'll be right back."

I went to the shelves in my closet and picked out a nice white cashmere sweater I had bought from Neiman Marcus when Alice and I had made a therapy-excursion shopping trip to Belleview during the whole debacle of Edward running off to Alaska then saving Bella's life. I put the cashmere to my face. I never would have thought this soft sweater on sale (at sixty-five percent off? It was a steal at ninety dollars!) that I bought to comfort me during the upheaval would be a sweater I would be giving to the very girl I wanted to have take all her troublesome problems by 'going away' with me 'helping' her go by smothering her myself in her sleep.

Now my arms will be around her tonight, but for a very different reason.

You see: God does exist, and His sense of irony is still in top form.

Not that I mind all that much. If getting Bella is God's little joke on me, I'll suffer His irony gladly.

I returned to Bella, handing her the sweater. As she put it on, her eyes were abstracted, lost in thought.

"What is it?" I asked.

Bella pulled the sweater over her head and asked quietly, "I mean … how can this work if I'm with you only for a few minutes now and I have to dress up … more? Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?" Then she looked at me shyly but earnestly for confirmation. "Right?"

See? We hadn't consummated our love tonight, but already she was worrying.

"It's okay, Bella," I said reassuringly. "That will work itself out."

Bella was silent, and I just so enjoyed the feel of her against my body with the usually interposed blanket removed in the quiet.

"How?" she asked after a moment.

I smiled: "Have you ever noticed that you experience elevated body temperature during increased or prolonged physical activity?"

"You mean …" Bella began, but then she got it: "oh, wow!"

"'Wow' what?" I tried to keep the disapproval from my voice at her imprecision of expression. I had to remind myself that this was something that people in this day and age just did.

"I just got an image of what you were talking about and …" Bella shifted in embarrassment.

"Tomorrow you'll get more than an image," I purred.

"Uh, wow!" she said again, then she said hesitantly: "… um, so … do you wanna … um, 'practice' now?"

_Bella is such a sweetie!_ I thought so pleased to myself.

A tired little sweetie.

"We are practicing right now, holding each other like this. Let's do just that for now, and let you get some sleep."

Bella's voice scowled: "Meanie! Why?"

But then she answered herself with a big yawn, and she couldn't stop a little giggle at herself for this.

"Mmhm!" I agreed, "that's why."

"But how can you expect me to fall asleep after getting me all excited like that with your sultry words and voice," Bella asked petulantly. "Unless …"

"Unless what?" I asked, anticipating her request, but letting her ask it, anyway.

I wonder if this is how Alice feels at times, enjoying what's coming more because you already know what's coming _a priori._

"Well," Bella said, "do you mind singing me to sleep?"

_Do I mind!_ I thought sarcastically. I mean, really: _Rosalie, do you mind showing off a bit of your talent for us?_ Hm, well, let me think about that …

And why would I wish to withhold the royal favor of myself from my admiring and adorning fans, anyway?

Well, besides the bloodlust, that is.

I simply smiled and let the hushed lullaby sing my answer:

_Baby sleep, gently sleep,  
__Life is long and love is deep …_

I felt Bella relax in my arms as she sighed contentedly. She was out before I even got to the third line, but I finished the song.

For her.

I held her that whole night, lightly, letting her shift as she was wont to do while sleeping, but in her sleep she kept herself pressed to me, even as she turned.

We used to tease Edward. Watching Bella for a whole night? Night after night? Wouldn't that be boring?

I now realized it was anything but boring. Life, out there, talking and fighting with family and those stupid humans, that was boring.

But this …?

If this moment went on unto eternity, it would be the eternal moment I would treasure.

And the thing about it is this: it does go into eternity for me. I will always have this moment in my Eternal Now. I will always have it to treasure.

And I had thought there was nothing redeeming about this _thisness_ and about our kind.

But now …

I shook my head at my own weak foolishness. If myself of fifty years ago saw me now, she would have probably torched herself to make sure her eternally blazing anger and hatred would not be 'corrupted' by this weakness. For she knew full well that if you let people into your heart, they break it.

Especially the ones that profess that they love you.

"Rose," Bella whispered softly from the depths Morpheus' hold, still reaching out to me.

It were almost as if she could sense that I had descended into my own depths: the depths of self-examination and -loathing, and she was reaching to me with her voice to pull me out. The sweet little waif of a human girl stooped to rescue me, the cold, hard, monstrous vampire from her a Hell of her own making.

"I love you, Bella," I whispered back softly, and kissed her head.

Bella sighed and fell into a deeper slumber.

* * *

**Chapter end notes:**

[1] Okay, my sweets, what should I do? I have all these pictures of my Bellas and my Rosalies wearing the clothes mentioned in this chapter an in other chapters and stories. Do you wish to see the clothes being modeled? And if so, um, how do I do that? If I put a link to the stores, and they change them, we all lose out, so I've downloaded the pictures to my computer (we're not talking about anything but modeling clothes in this story, because it's a sweet story, remember?), but I don't know how that works, see? I mean, I don't know how to upload them to ffn so that I can link to them. Anyone know how to do this who can tell poor little me in a step-by-step manner how to do this?

Oh! I just had an idea. One of my readers suggested the website polyvore that does collaging, so maybe I can make a BellaRose collage for the chapters that mention clothing? Should I? Or should I _not_ take hours to learn how to do that and just update now, already, 'phfina, that bad girl who's leaving you in suspense.

(but I did update quickly to resolve the 'hair incident,' so please be gentle with me, huh?)

[2] The lullaby is from M. Night Shamalan's movie _The Village_. It's Bella's favorite lullaby, and that's why Rosalie sings it to her, even as Bella has no idea of the ironic implication to Rosalie that Bella's favorite lullaby was in a monster movie. You can find the whole song on youtube with a search of 'Ivy's Lullaby.'


	5. Poptarts, so tasty!

**Chapter summary**: If Esme is so insistent that Bella not eat the pop-tarts, well, then _Esme_ could explain why they were in the trash. But, ... watching Bella put that spoon to her mouth, the way her lips caress the curve of the spoon as she ... hm, watching a human eat isn't all that disgusting, after all.

* * *

I like watching Bella sleep. It seemed if all the cares in the world fell off her brow as it relaxed into sleep, but then, throughout the night, they came back to her, singly or in groups, and paraded their way across her face and lips and through her body, but then were released again into the world, leaving her, finally, alone.

Until they would revisit her the next day and night … and the next.

And seeing her body tense and relax, tense and relax, and hearing her murmured pleas and sighs …

I like watching Bella sleep.

But another thing I like is watching Bella wake. Seeing the transition from the purity of sleep to the everyday-ness, the everything-ness of wakefulness, where she would yawn, or cough, or sneeze or stretch in a way that she wouldn't in her sleep. How she would fight, so hard, to stay in that sleep, but how wakefulness always won …

Or _has_ always won, up to now.

How I rejoice when Bella wakens, because that means one more day I get to have her, another day, another victory against the eternal sleep that is the destiny of all mortals, and, could still very possible be hers, seeing as she's still mortal.

But if I rejoice in Bella's return to the waking world, there's one who's not so happy with that state of affairs.

Bella.

What a complainer she is! She mumbles and tosses and covers her eyes from the morning light and herself in the blanket … and snuggles more into me …

And I've learned in these sleepovers we've had, Bella cannot abide a chipper morning person, so a cheery greeting of "rise and shine!" is not so cheerily received.

So, I'm gentle. I rub her arm, and whisper softly to the already awake Bella: "Bella, wake up," and let her toss and moan in complaint for a few moments.

But only for a few moments. She's awake and she knows she must get up and face the day. Lounging in bed all day is unacceptable.

Not that I give her a lecture, but I do keep rubbing her arm gently until she sighs in defeat.

And so it happened this morning, and she did sigh, but then she shifted a bit, drawing the blanket around herself.

Hm, the sweater did keep her warm enough, or did I misjudge the delicate balance of her body?

"Good morning," I essayed in a low voice.

Bella raised her hand to her mouth, covering it. "Hi," she said shyly.

"How did you sleep?" I asked.

"Um, fine … actually, great, but …" Bella hesitated, speaking into her hand.

"You need your 'human moment'?" I offered.

Bella was always so concerned about how she presented herself to the world. She believed she had morning breath, and that breath was bad.

I suppose that's possible. But for me? A vampire? The strong scent of human?

The only possible way that it could be 'bad' to me is in its very compelling draw.

Bella's 'morning breath' smelled exactly like she shouldn't. It smelled too much like forbidden fruit: so tempting, so desirous, so heavenly.

But if it got her to brush her teeth in the morning, the report back to Charlie could only improve good will all around, and that's why I offered.

That, and Bella's comfort.

"Yes, please," she accepted gratefully …

… but then didn't get out of the bed. This was unusual. Usually, she sprang, or, more accurately, dragged herself out of the bed and went straight to the bathroom. This time she stayed under the covers.

I waited.

"Um, while I'm … you know … could you go downstairs and tell Esme that she doesn't have to cook me breakfast? I'll just have a pop-tart or something, okay?"

Hm. This would be an issue. Esme loved to do things for Bella. In fact, this was the first time that Esme could be motherly at all in her existence. We, her 'children,' didn't need to be looked after in any way that a mother would, but Bella …

Well, with Bella being human, Esme finally got do the things she longed to do, for nearly a century. As much as Esme loved the rest of us, and there was no denying that she so dearly loved us all, Bella held a very special place in Esme's heart, because Bella was truly a daughter that Esme could truly be a mother to.

I mean, after all, Esme learned to _cook_ for Bella. And no greater love hath this: that a vampire cook _human food._

If I had a stomach, it would be turning at the very thought of the idea of it: _cooking!_ I think the only thing that stopped Esme from _eating_ with Bella, as much as she wished Bella to feel comfortable, having somebody eating with her, instead of us all just watching her, was the knowledge that Bella might not like seeing or hearing the food coming right back out.

"Okay," I agreed easily, but also to cover the possibility that Bella might hear the gasp of disappointment that came from the kitchen downstairs.

I kissed Bella's head, and got out of bed.

And then it hit me.

The scent.

And now I knew the reason why Bella kept the blankets around her … it wasn't because she needed to stay warm, because she was warm enough.

No, my holding her didn't make her cold last night.

But it did affect her in other ways. And when I lifted the blanket to get up from the bed, the smell of her diffused throughout the room, and that muskiness hit me, hard, and it took everything in me to smile lightly at the back of her head covered with that glorious mess of chocolate brown tangles and retreat to my chamber to cast aside my slip now just awash in _her_ and to put on casual clothes for the day.

Yes, I was present for her dreams, and her sighs, and her rubbing against me as she dreamed her dreams and sighed her sighs, and, oh, yes, did they ever affect me strongly, too. But now I saw that dreams affect the dreamer. And I wondered, as I changed, should I just go right back into that bed, and capture my Bella in my arms, and not let her go?

But my question was answered by footsteps fleeing to our bathroom and by the sound of a door being closed.

No, Bella needed her human moment. And that included a breakfast of a, God help me, pop-tart.

I exited our room to battle Esme over Bella's breakfast.

I shook my head. If you had told me, Rosalie Lillian Hale, a decade ago that I would be fighting for a human, I would have laughed in your face … if I hadn't already ripped it off.

But then if you told me that it was to battle for a pop-tart …?

The face I met in the kitchen was not pleased.

"Do you know how much sugar are in these things?" Esme hissed, waving the offending box in my face.

I held up my hands. "Esme," I sighed, "yes, I do."

"No, Rosalie," Esme glowered, "you don't, because we fresh ran out of them!"

And with that statement she threw the unopened box into the trashcan.

I felt my jaw tightening. I looked over at the trashcan.

Esme read my mind. After nearly a century of being together, we all knew each other's ways, down the the very thoughts we thought. Edward (now, thankfully absent) was just more asinine about it than the rest of us.

But that didn't mean that Esme didn't know exactly what I wanted to do right now.

"Don't even think it, Rosalie," Esme said.

"But Bella said she wanted …" I began.

Esme interrupted me: "I didn't think you would let _your_ Bella eat food from the trash."

Esme crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow, daring me to fish out the box of pop-tarts.

This was a dare she knew I wouldn't take.

I crossed my own arms. "So what are we going to feed her, because you surely aren't going to cook her breakfast."

"And why not?" Esme demanded. "What's wrong with my breakfast?"

"Pancakes are better than pop-tarts?" I countered.

"They are when there's butter milk, protein powder and unprocessed wheat bran!" Esme hotly answered.

I stared at her.

And then I shook my head and chuckled.

"Do you even know what 'unprocessed wheat bran' is?" I demanded.

In answer, Esme went to the pantry, retrieved a ball jar filled with what looked like course grains of sand, and showed me a label taped to it, with the words 'wheat bran, unprocessed,' written in a neat hand … Esme's loving attention to detail showed up even in her labeling every jar of everything in the house.

I smiled at Esme's fervor. "Be that as it may," I said, "you can't put down a plate of pancakes in front of Bella like you did last time and not expect her either to get sick from trying to stuff herself appeasing you and your 'oh, don't you like it, Bella?' comments or to die from embarrassment because she stops, leaving most of them on the serving plate.

"Rosalie," Esme complained, throwing up her hands after carefully returning the ball jar of 'wheat bran, unprocessed' to the pantry, "I cut that recipe to one-fourth its recommended size."

"And still it would have fed a family of four, Esme," I said. "Bella's the only one in this family that can eat that … _stuff."_

I grimaced as I stated that last word. The whole house _stank_ of rotten egg and spoilt milk that were the parts of the recipe that were composed of animal produce. We all labored to keep straight faces as we fed Bella, but it was just so trying as the _stench_ of it permeated and invaded every one of our spaces. After the first time Esme cooked for Bella, … that is _after_ Bella's visit, Alice and I gave away our entire unpacked wardrobes, and made shopkeepers up and down the West Coast of the United States _very_ happy with our absolutely bonzai shopping sprees …

… and then we hit the internet. Remember how the dot-bomb wasn't the catastrophe that everybody predicted it would be, because of 'increased consumer confidence and spending online'? Mmhm. What did you think may have been a catalyst for that?

Esme's cooking … ruining all our morning, noon and night wear … indoors, outdoors and … otherwise.

But that was the first time, and then the boys made themselves useful, particularly Jasper and my Emmett by adding air-tight seals to all entranceways to our rooms … Edward made himself useful then, too, by going on one of his daily hunts since he was hanging around that in-the-way human (or so I thought at the time). In fact, the only times Edward ever made himself useful was when he made himself scarce.

He should have stayed in Denali, and never come back.

But I guess I must admit I see now why he did.

If I would have left, I would have come back.

Of course, I'll _never_ leave Bella, because I'm not stupid little Edward. When Bella looks me in the eyes and tells me she needs me, I believe her, and I don't go looking for ways to dump her on the forest floor to follow some stupid altruistic imperative and destroy her life in the process.

'Oh, I love you, Bella, so let me ruin your life and destroy your trust forever!'

Idiocy: thou art Edward Cullen.

I'm proud like Edward, no: prouder. But that doesn't mean I have to be idiotic about it.

But that shopping spree was the fallout of Esme's first (successful, I suppose) cooking attempt. Nowadays we tolerate the stench of cooked food imbued in everything. This place almost smells as if a human lives here.

Just as the Swan residence has a very distinct perfume in its very air. And that perfume has a very clear message: _vampire__s__ frequent this place._

Edward, Alice, myself, even Carlisle, and Esme has been around there, too. At least four vampires at a human residence? The admixture of four vampires' scents in one place means only one thing for the continued survival of any creature with any sense in its head: _stay away._

James learned that, … the hard way. Other vampires if they weren't driven insane, like Victoria was, didn't need any further prompting. One vampire could destroy a village. Four vampires? they could, and did, take out a vampire army. They could move a mountain. And without much fuss … until the Volturi show up and 'ask' the mountain movers to cease and desist … existing.

So Bella's scent and the scent of Bella's activities were now all over us and our house and property.

Not that I minded … well, I did mind that it was just Bella's scent all over me, as I'd prefer something more than just Bella's scent be all over me, and …

And, speaking of which.

"H-hi, Esme." I heard Bella's hesitant voice coming from behind my shoulder.

Esme's eyes widened. "My, you look precious this morning, Bella," Esme exclaimed. "Don't you agree, Rosalie?"

Esme eyes directed me look at Bella, and she nodded up-and-down to indicate what my answer should be.

What was it that got into everybody's heads that they felt they had to supply my answers for me? As if I was ever a loss for what to say!

I turned and looked at my Bella.

If I had eaten human food, I would have been regurgitating it in shock at what I saw.

My sweet little Bella was all grown up! She was wearing an ankle-length black column dress covered with huge golden and white blossoms and trimmed at its base with gold.

Not that I noticed the golden-theme all that much, because I noticed that the dress was more like an over-large skirt for her, and that's all. I mean it just barely covered her very petite breasts and was held on how? Ah, yes, the smallest of strings rose from the front of the dress, 'v'-ing out to encircle her neck.

I didn't see spaghetti straps, so my eyes wandered down, … just curious, you know, to see if she had any support … not that she needed any, because she didn't as her sweet little breasts were …

Dear me! I realized my eyes were boring holes right into the top part of Bella's dress.

Esme cleared her throat.

"What?" I demanded. "Bella's wearing a tube bra, Esme!"

Obviously, as I could clearly see the outline of that undergarment … which modestly hide Bella's body's more serious reaction to our attention. Well, mostly my attention.

"Thank you for that clarification, Rosalie, I did see that, too," Esme said coolly, "but we're all waiting for you to say how nice Bella looks."

I was about to retort that saying Bella looked nice was firstly an understatement and secondly would be insincere if it required prompting, but then I saw Bella's perplexed look and realized something.

Esme and I had been talking normally. Normally for us, that is: normally for vampires.

Bella didn't understand one word that buzzed and flowed around her. That means she didn't hear my outburst about what she was wearing … under what she was wearing.

My own inattention had just saved me. I recollected what Esme had said to her and then added my ready assent.

"Yes, Bella," collecting myself and looking approving for her, "you look beautiful."

And indeed she did: this dress agreed with her much better in its colors to hers, and being classically cut it gave an elegance to Bella … one could almost say 'aloofness' if that word wasn't so foreign to who Bella fundamentally was.

And it also helped that the dress so prominently brought to the fore Bella's upper body. I admired her shoulders and collar bone and my lips felt the anticipation of touching each part of her skin, jutting from the underlying bones and hollows of the recesses in between.

Bella blushed at my admiration.

Both Esme and I had to turn away from that. And I heard Esme swallow her own want, her own venom, as I swallowed mine.

So hard to love something so utterly desirable as Bella is to us.

"Thanks," Bella mumbled to the ground.

She just made it so hard on me, all the time, with her demur looks and her constant surprises. And why wasn't she wearing her shawl this morning? Was she being intentionally provocative? I looked at her face. No, Bella was innocence personified. More than likely she forgot to get her shawl in her rush to come down here for breakfast, starting her day.

"So, um, …" Bella dragged her eyes back up to Esme, "did Rosalie mention that you didn't need to bother to cook me breakfast?"

Esme looked at Bella levelly. "Bella, it's not a bother for me at all; it's my pleasure, in fact."

Bella looked away and whispered, "I know," very quietly to herself, as if regretting that she was robbing Esme of this joy.

Cooking? My thought was that Bella could rob that joy from me anytime she wanted to.

Bella forced herself to continue, "It's just that I'm not up for a big breakfast this morning. Could I have just a pop-tart instead?"

"Sorry," Esme said easily, "we just ran out of pop-tarts."

I watched Esme as she said this so casually to Bella. But Esme's eyes were hard, as if daring me to contradict her statement.

Bella took this news with surprise, then confusion. "Wait, didn't you have a box of them in the pantry? How could you run out?"

I wanted to see Esme explain this one.

She didn't: she merely shrugged in response.

"What?" Bella asked. "Did they expire? You know they don't really expire, right? I mean, they found twinkies in a landfill like three years after they were dumped and they were in perfect shape. Pop-tarts are just like twinkies."

_Yes, they are,_ I thought silently to myself, and I saw the same thought cross Esme's brow.

We didn't have twinkies in the house, either.

Bella seemed to deflate at the lack of enthusiasm we showed in to her explanation.

"Oh, well," she said, "I'm not that hungry; I suppose I can skip breakfa-…"

"I think not!" Esme interrupted looking over Bella's slight and very underweight form.

Underweight, but not as skeletal as she used to be, thank goodness!

"But I don't want you to cook any-…" Bella tried again.

"And I'm not going to, but you, young lady, are going to have some breakfast," Esme commanded. "Skipping meals? _What_ are they teaching children in schools these days?"

"But…"

"But nothing, now you shush and sit down at that table," Esme was not to be swayed, "and Rosalie," she turned to me commandingly, "you are to make sure she does sit down and eat what little I put in front of her, even if you have to tie her to her chair and spoon-feed her, you got me?"

Both Bella and I sighed and responded at the same time:

"Yes, Esme," I said as Bella said: "Yes, ma'am."

We looked at each other and smiled. I motioned to the breakfast nook. Bella gave me a knowing look — you can't argue with Esme when she got like this — and moved to the corner table, sitting down. I sat down across from her and prepared for the Esme onslaught.

The front door opened and in walked an entirely different onslaught.

"So," a tinkling voice chirped from the front door, "what did I miss?"

Into the kitchen walked Alice with Jasper in tow. Jasper stopped at the entranceway to the kitchen, leaning casually against the frame, his lion's mane brushed against the top of the frame.

Both Esme and I answered Alice, "Nothing," we said, utterly failing to keep the subtle shade of strain from the tone of our voices.

But Alice was looking at Bella and smiling sweetly: "Nice dress," she said casually, and joined us at the table.

"Thanks," Bella said again. And blushed. Again.

Alice turned to Jasper. "Doesn't she look nice?"

Jasper looked at Bella then quickly looked away and swallowed. He was obviously not breathing. And his eyes were pitch-black, even though he had just returned from a hunt.

"Yes. Very," his clipped voice came out through gritted teeth and a tight-lipped smile.

Jasper looked lost in the attention on him. "Well," was all he said, then he left. I heard him ascend the stairs and go to his library, pull out a book and begin reading.

Alice turned back to us and smiled wanly.

Bella looked thoughtfully at the entranceway.

"You know," she said, "one day Jasper and I are going to be, like, really good friends."

"Yes, Bella," Alice smiled, "you two are going to be like … brother and sister. Like how Rosalie and Jas are."

Bella looked at me with a new interest. "You and Jasper are close?"

I smiled at Bella, "Yes, actually, we are: we may look like we have nothing in common, but we both think similarly in many situations, and Jasper takes the role of looking after the family very seriously … just as I do. In many ways, not just in looks, Jasper and I are like the twins we pretend to be."

"Wow!" Bella said awed, then added: "… I wish I knew him better."

"You will, Bella," Alice reassured. "Jas just finds it hard to open up to anybody. Just give him time."

"Like more than a year and a half?" Bella queried.

"Yeah, like more than a year in a half," Alice's golden eyes, glowing from the hunt she and Jasper just returned from, looked rueful.

"Oh," Bella said.

I supported Alice. "Don't be hard on yourself, Bella, it took more than a decade for Alice and me to have the relationship we have now as sisters."

"And," Alice added, "we still aren't smooth sailing all the time, or even yesterday, isn't that right, Rosie-toesies?"

"_Do not _call me that," I growled at Alice quietly but dangerously.

Alice's stuck out tongue and tinkling laugher was the only acknowledgement I got.

Bella looked back-and-forth between the two of us. "You two are so sweet!"

"Sweet?" I challenged, but my Bella had a new confidence because she smiled and nodded, not backing down.

Or maybe I was going soft and losing my touch. That's worrisome. I'd have to work on terrorizing the student body at Dartmouth: the shot of adrenaline from a good healthy dose of fear would be good for them.

"That's so nice of you to say, Bella," Esme said, coming into the conversation, bringing along with her a box of MultiGrain Cheerios, an empty bowl, an already peeled and sliced banana on a small plate, and a pitcher of milk on a tray. She set the tray in front of Bella and waved to it.

Bella blushed as she poured her own cereal, forcing us all to glance away.

I shook my head. Why in the world would Bella blush at a bowl of cereal?

"What's that all about?" I asked Bella, rubbing my fingers across my cheeks.

"Well, _Jeez!" _ Bella exclaimed embarrassedly and looked over to Esme, "I mean, like, you've got this movie star look, you know? And you're serving me breakfast! I mean, you don't even look like a mom, Esme, you look like, you know, Julia Roberts …"

"I don't look anything like Julia Roberts," Esme complained, but I could see she was preening.

"No, lemme finish," Bella said, "you know that girl that Julia Roberts said was the most beautiful woman in the world?"

We all looked at Bella. Vampires really aren't big on following the latest cultural references.

"You know," Bella pushed into the silence, "that girl in the movie _Bride and Prejudice?"_

"Keira Knightley?" I ventured, looking at Esme, who did not look anything like Keira Knightly, wondering what Bella was talking about.

"No!" Bella exclaimed in frustration.

At the same time, Alice laughed and said, "No, silly!" to me.

You do not call me silly.

She continued, "Bella said _'Bride and Prejudice'_ not _'Pride and Prejudice.'_ You were talking about Aishwarya Rai, right Bella?"

"I guess so," Bella answered, "although I don't know her name."

Alice looked at Esme appraisingly.

"Yes," Alice said after a second, "Esme does look like her in the movie, except your face is less full, Esme, and your skin is pale, of course, but I can see the resemblance in hair and in your kind eyes."

"Well," Esme simpered and looked away, quite pleased.

Bella looked down at her cereal bowl, stirring it, embarrassed that she actually complimented somebody and that it affected them.

I looked at Bella.

"Who do I look like to you, Bella?" I dared.

I felt my throat dry up and an emptiness in the pit of my stomach as soon as the words were out. If Esme looked like the most beautiful woman in the world to Bella … well, did that mean that Bella does not prefer blonds? Does she not like my looks, my hardened, stiff, formal features? I definitely do not have kind eyes. Maybe she said that to Esme because she was looking for kindness in a relationship.

If that were the case, she'd have to look elsewhere, like to convince Jasper to give up Alice, for, after all, Alice was kind to Bella as a friend.

That couldn't be said about me in any way whatsoever. There was not one ounce of kindness in me at all.

Bella wouldn't look up from her bowl. "You don't look like anybody in the world, Rosalie," she whispered to her cereal.

I swallowed. It was just as I suspected. My alienness had too twisted how I appeared: I wasn't human anymore to her: I was a monster. And now I saw our relationship in a whole new light. We are Beauty and the Beast. And I'm not the Beauty; Bella is.

"Oh," I said.

She just said she loved me out of sympathy. Just like that time she went to me when Edward and I were fighting and she took my hand. She sees Esme as kind, but really Bella's kind, and now I realized that's all this is: Bella is just being kind to me.

I looked down at my cold, sculpted hands. _Look at poor Rosalie Hale; nobody can stand her! Oh, that poor girl: damaged goods, no friends, always spiteful and angry. So twisted by hate. I'll tell her I love her so she doesn't feel so bad._

I felt a very gentle nudge under the table, and I looked up into Alice's eyes. They were neutral, which meant she was furious with me, but only Jasper could ever sense that, or Edward read that, or me, her sister of more than fifty years, know that.

"Because …?" Alice prompted Bella.

The human girl in question cleared her throat, glanced at me shyly and then looked away, "Because nobody could ever be half as beautiful as you are."

"I don't know what you see in me," she continued, and as she said this, a single tear spilled out of her eye and raced down her cheek. "Because you're a god, and I'm not."

Then she mumbled regretfully, "I'm so not."

"Bella," I said, reaching across the table to lift her chin, capturing her tear, "it's 'goddess.'"

I hadn't corrected her the first time she had told me this, months ago, because I was beyond shocked that anyone, particularly _'the Bella Swan'_ would ever talk to me, or, amazingly, give me a compliment, but I couldn't let the gender error pass any longer.

I'm a woman; I'm Rosalie Hale, and I love a this beautiful woman, Bella Swan, in front of me, crying into her cereal.

I put her tear to my lips and absorbed her essence into me.

The whole world whited out, and I was filled with a microburst of ecstasy beyond description. I locked my limbs so that I stayed rigidly seated in my chair.

Bella stared at me, open-mouthed: "Your eyes are glowing!" she breathed out in awe.

She was wrong.

Bella was wrong. My eyes weren't glowing. _She_ was glowing. _I'm_ not beautiful. Not like her … I may be beautiful on the outside, but that's it. Bella … Bella, she is beautiful. Through and through.

_I want you._

I don't know if I whispered it, or I thought it so strongly I felt it, or what.

I just knew it's true. I _want _her. I want to suck every last delicious drop of blood from her, right here, right now.

I want to carry her up to my bedroom … no, _our_ bedroom, and rip off that hated dress that gets to caress nearly every inch of her skin right from her body and fuck her until …

Well, fuck her until … forever. For until we both reached the eternity and found each other there. United in one love, one being.

I want to throw this God-damned interposing table, blocking me from her, right through the wall, lift her right out of her chair and kiss her and hold her in my arms and never let her go.

_I want you._

Bella said something, and it took me a second for me to change the sounds coming from her mouth into words that had any meaning for me.

What she said was 'I want to never stop crying if that's what it is to see you so beautiful.'

I breathed in lavender and freesia and salt and I breathed out and I heard words coming from my mouth.

'I want you never to have a reason to cry; I love you so much, Bella, so, so much it hurts,' were the words that I spoke.

Bella was bawling then when my words reached her, and I tasted bitter acid in my mouth awash with venom. Even the words I used to try to console her only broke her heart harder.

"And I want you two to stop making ga-ga eyes at each other so that Bella can eat her cereal before it turns into a barley and wheat milkshake!" cut Esme's exasperated voice right into our conversation.

I blinked, snapping out of it, and look at Esme, arms akimbo, foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

"Here, here!" pipped up a high voice that sounded more amused than annoyed, "I thought the drama would at least be cut in half when my drama queen brother Edward hit the high road. One can only feast on so much _schadenfreude_ before slamming into the sugar-angst-overdose wall, for goodness sake!"

Bella snapped out of her reverie, too, looking at Alice who had just spoken. She dabbed her eyes and cheeks with the napkin and said: "We don't really talk about … _him_, you know."

"Who?" Alice looked confused. "Edward?"

"Yeah," Bella said embarrassedly, "nor, like, mention his name."

Alice looked over at me and shook her head.

"That is so ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "'Oh, look, everybody, let's not talk about the white 900-pound gorilla in the room! And maybe it will go away because _not talking about something solves all our issues, now, doesn't it!'"_

This was as angry as I had ever seen Alice.

But I stepped in Bella's defense.

"I just got tired of me and our relationship now being compared with Edward all the time," I explained reasonably to Alice.

Alice should understand that. After all, she told me she went to bat for me on this very issue when she talked with Bella.

"Of course you did, Rosalie, who likes being compared to the ex? _And,"_ Alice glared at Bella, "who would ever bring up the ex in comparison, anyway …"

Alice's eyes narrowed at Bella, "That's just st-…"

"Alice," I warned, my tone very, very reasonable. But the subsonic registers were very tight and filled with implications.

Bella was white as a sheet. No, Bella was as white as one of us.

Bella didn't handle criticism well.

Alice shut her mouth. It looked like she had wanted to deliver a life-lesson lecture to Bella, but she reconsidered, given that the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees in the last few seconds.

Alice thought she could take me. Maybe she could. But the children getting into a fight with 'Momma Esme' in the room? Particularly against her special baby Bella?

Alice glanced at me and at Esme, and chose the more diplomatic route.

"Sure, don't bring up Edward as a comparison, but not talk about him at all? He's my brother! He's your brother, Rosalie, and since you're part of the family, that makes him your brother, too, Bella, and not even mentioning his name? That's just weird! Particularly since he's going to be back eventually, and …"

"When?"

That sound … it was the cry of a dove. It was a gasp of hope.

It was Esme asking after her beloved son.

Alice looked away.

"Soon?" Esme asked hopefully.

When Alice didn't respond to that, Esme's voice became plaintive. "Well, surely …" she tried "surely before the school year starts …"

Alice's face didn't give Esme hope. "Well, then Christmas, obvi-…"

Alice wouldn't look at Esme.

"Years?" Esme could barely whisper. Then her jaw set. "Alice, tell me what you saw."

Alice found the grain of the tabletop very interesting. "I didn't. I haven't."

Then she looked at Esme. "I just know he's coming back, is all. He's family. He'll come back. He has to."

Alice sounded very convincing, very forceful.

I wonder whom she was trying to convince.

"Will he?" Bella asked in a small voice.

I looked over at my Bella, and tried to convey to her with my look that this wasn't her fault and that she was loved by every one of us.

"Yes," Alice answered. "He will. I haven't seen it yet, but I know him better than … I just know him." Alice turned to Esme: "He knows how much this is breaking your heart, Esme, and Carlisle's and, God damn my stupid self-absorbed big brother, mine! He just needs time, you know? Just give him some time, and he'll be back. It won't be years again, Esme, I promise."

"How can you promise that?" Bella asked again, humbly.

I was more of the mind for Bella to ask, _how can you keep him the hell away._ But that seemed to be a counterproductive comment at this juncture for me to suggest, so I remained silent.

"Because," Alice explained, "if he doesn't come back at the appropriate time, I'll go out and fetch him, dragging him back by his foppish locks after I kick his ass half-way home."

Looking at Alice as she declared this, it looked like she had the moxie to make good on her word.

"From where?" This time the question came from Esme.

Alice smiled wanly. "I don't know. Edward's in a car around this near future, as far as I've seen, but he's flipping a coin at each exit, and then he flips another coin to tell him what the first coin flip meant. I can't even foresee the exit signs because there's no set highway he's on. And that's his plan for a while. That will take him somewhere eventually, though, so when he gets there then he'll have to make definite choices."

"Until then …" Alice shrugged.

Esme sighed, but then her look became hard. "Bella: eat."

Bella was looking at Alice, enraptured, the whole time, but Esme's words recalled her to her task. She took a spoonful of cereal and ate with a guilty look on her face.

"Your cereal has gone soggy," I commented disapprovingly, reaching for the bowl.

Bella's hand encircled her bowl protectively. "I like'm that way," she defended, then reached for the cereal box, pouring more on top of the morass in her bowl. "This way you get soggy and crunchy together; it's really good."

I looked at the gluttonous mess before her. _To each her own,_ I thought privately.

Alice wasn't so private: _"Yuck,_ Bella, how can you eat that stuff?"

"As long is she's eating, I don't mind," Esme interjected.

And I added silently, _as long as it isn't pop-tarts. _But I had to agree with Esme's stand on this issue, even as I didn't like her for taking that stand.

"Yeah," Bella agree with Esme and then turned on Alice, "Don't knock it until you try it."

Alice snorted; she had enough of the smell of the milk going into her nostrils, that smelled like spoiled yet processed yogurt to our noses, to know she didn't need to try it to knock it.

Bella continued eating her cereal.

"So, Bella," Alice shot, earning a glare from Esme for interrupting Bella's breakfast, "If Rosalie's a god_dess,"_ here Alice rolled her eyes, both at Bella's hyperbole and my uncompromising demand for correctness in grammar, "how do you see me?"

Bella smiled up at Alice. "Oh, I totally noticed you first, …" Then she paused, blushed, then whispered, "well, after … _Edward …"_ Bella shot a fearful and apologetic glance at me, but then continued. "You were so cute and you walked like a ballerina. You were lucky they told me you and Jasper were together because I would have so …"

Bella glanced at me, blushed harder, and then stuttered something incomprehensible.

So I helped my poor lost Bella. "But you picked me, right, Bella, to love? You picked me." I said.

"Totally!" Bella said relieved, "I mean, like, I so totally …"

"Bella, eat," I said gently, indicating the bowl of cereal with my eyes.

Bella seemed suddenly very busy eating.

"But she thinks I'm cute!" Alice purred, looking at me as if she'd won a point.

I smiled at Alice. "She thinks that because you are cute … for a pixie."

From the upstairs library, a bass voice, too quiet for Bella to hear, said, "But you know what they say about pixies in bed …"

"Ooh!" Alice squealed and stood up, "excuse me, I have to find out what they say about pixies!"

And off she went.

Bella looked at Alice going and asked: "What do they say about pixies? … besides them being cute, that is?"

"Bella," I said, pointing to her cereal.

I didn't wish to mention that some myths described pixies as naked; that might be detrimental to her finishing her breakfast.

Bella finished her breakfast of cereal and banana slices under the combined watchful eye of 'Mother Esme' and me.

Rosalie Lillian Hale, soon to be the terror of the entire student body of Dartmouth College.

But before that occurred, I had some rather frightful plans (that is, frightful if oh-so-brave little Bella knew the exact details) to execute on another student body right in front of me.

I held my breath from the stink of food as Esme took away the tray.

My plans didn't involve cooking, thank God!

For they were to be nice plans.

Very nice plans, indeed.

* * *

**Chapter end notes:**

[1] The long shelf-life of twinkies is an urban legend; but that's Bella for you. Next she'll be saying vampires are real or some such foolishness.

Oh. Wait.

[2] Bella at the end of New Moon was around ninety pounds, which is about twenty pounds underweight for her height of 5'4".

[3] Both Rosalie and Jasper felt so strongly about a particular 'situation,' that is: the 'Bella problem,' that they both volunteered to kill Bella the night of the family 'conference' in _Midnight Sun_ right after the van incident occurred. And Jasper sees himself as Major Whitlock (because he is), guardian of the Cullens (and he is, in many ways, both in military strategy and in legal defense with Mr. Jenks, J.D.). Rosalie also sees herself as the (sole) protector of the family: that's why she fights with them all the time: because she knows they are getting into trouble again, but do they ever listen to her?

[4] Those words: "Because you are a god, and I'm not," started this whole thing between Bella and Rosalie _during_ _Bella and Edward's_ _wedding rehearsal!_ [You go, Rosalie, swooping in the steal the bride-to-be away as she's nearly walking down the aisle! That takes some serious _élan_ (n.: ass-kicking 'tude)!] You can read that story in Jocelyn Torrent's story _Rose Read._ It's on my favorites list, so just follow the link.

[5] _schadenfreude, _n.: joy-in-(others')-suffering. I had a dear reader email me and used the word _verklempt_ (n.: weepy-eyed, like Bella does here, and, well, Bella does that everywhere, doesn't she?) in a sentence.

Okay, girls, I have a confession to make. If you're going to be speaking German or a Germanic-like language, like, oh, Icelandic or some language like that, to me? Well, that is just so fucking hot, okay? You could be saying: 'there are two little brown mice in the field' for all I know, but I would just so swoon, right onto my bed here. Damn, girls, that is _HOT!_ If I were to get a review of this chapter in such a super hot language (and, well, English is a Germanic language, right?) I would so …

Wait, 'phfina, mind the T-rating for the story's endnotes, now.

Oh, sorry! I'll toe the line.

And any hints of _Aimée & Jaguar_ … ? Huh? I have no idea about what you're talking (except for me to say: 'do see that film') … after all, I'm in no way a Jaguar, so how could you even go there with that?

[6] I just wanna put it out there that geophf is nothing like Edward, okay? So when I say 'stupid self-absorbed big brother' no implied comparisons were being made between one taller, older, haughty big brother and … wait a minute, I meant, 'when I wrote that Alice said …' Um, is it too late for me to salvage this endnote?


	6. Nerves

**Chapter summary**: How come everyone is making things out to be bigger than they are? It's just a walk! Why don't things ever go according to my plans? Why don't people just listen to me and do what I say!

* * *

Bella and I stood up from the table.

"So," I said pleasantly, "are you ready?"

Bella's pulse went through the roof, drawing a quizzical glance from Esme.

Bella swallowed and asked defensively, "Ready for what?"

I frowned. My brave little Bella was just a bit jumpy. I wanted to remind her that she wasn't supposed to be worrying, but that admonishment would probably only make her worry more.

I smiled sadly and said, "Wrong start …"

Bella almost jerked in place: "Wrong start for what?"

I tried, very hard, not to burst out laughing nor to point out this whole scheme was her idea.

Instead, I said quickly, "Bella, look, what you need to do is to calm down, okay? I don't want to see what you just ate. All I'm suggesting is that we take a stroll outside: a nice, calming walk after breakfast. That's all."

"Oh," Bella sounded relieved but also disappointed at the same time. But then she forced herself to brighten up, "Okay, that sounds like a good idea."

"Good," I said smiling. "So you brought clothes like this I assume?" I waved down at my blue jeans.

Bella smiled a small smile. "I knew you were going to get me out my dress eventually …"

Bella stopped, looked over my shoulder at Esme, and turned white.

"I mean, oh, my God!" Bella choked out, "I mean that you'd get me back in blue jeans. I mean …"

I glanced over at Esme. She had her eyebrow cocked at Bella.

"Bella, honey, …" I said.

Bella interrupted herself and me, "I am totally spazzing out, aren't I?"

I chuckled. "Just a little bit. Why don't you go upstairs and change? Then we'll go on a walk."

Bella made her escape and started to scampering up the stairs, all the while muttering how she couldn't believe what she had just said in front of Esme. Then I saw Bella's foot catch the hem of her dress as she ascended the stairs, and she went sprawling forward onto the stairs.

She fell well. She's had more than a bit of practice.

Bella looked back at us embarrassedly, "I'm okay! I'm just not used to running in this long dress, is all."

We looked at her.

Neither Esme nor I were Edward, so neither of us raced to the stairs and carried her off to the car to get X-rays at the hospital.

So Bella collected herself, lifting up the hem of her dress a few inches with one hand and the other hand now on the bannister, and she tried again, navigating the stairs just a bit more slowly this time.

I shook my head. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Esme with her cocked eyebrow looking at me.

So I turned to her. "What?"

Esme smiled. "A 'walk'?"

"Yes," I growled. "What of it?"

"Oh, nothing," Esme answered. "A 'walk' is nice."

Esme's smile widened. "Very nice; I like going out on … 'walks.' A nice pleasant stroll with Carlisle a few miles from the house, maybe a little bit of hunting to get the blood flowing through you, and then, ooh! …"

Esme's look became abstracted for a moment, but then she became serious and refocused on me, "Of course you won't go on a hunt with Bella outside! But do be careful with her. You can't throw her onto the ground nor slam her against a tree like I do with Carlisle when I get those urges after a hunt…"

"_Esme!" _I exclaimed.

I had just now, to my surprise, learned something new about the endless Carlisle and Esme romance that I really had no desire to know. After more than seventy years, I thought I knew it all: the best times to get clear of the house, what 'Nurse Esme paging Dr. Cullen on line 124' meant at the hospital (and it wasn't because she was raiding the blood bank. Oh, no: she was looking for another kind of _injection_ from her doctor), what parts of the forest to avoid (the parts close to our home wherever we lived, Esme wasn't very fast as a vampire), … all of it.

I had though Esme was just a weak little submissive wifey to Carlisle with her 'Oh, Carlisle!' whimpers making reading absolutely impossible when they went at it in their bedroom (which was often: those two fucked like they were the last two rabbits on the planet)! But no. The image that came to mind of Big Momma Esme throwing Cool Cat Carlisle to the forest floor and snarling: 'Give me what I need _right now!' _as she mounts him …

Ick. Or as children these days say: _gross! _or whatever they say. Carlisle and Esme act the role of my parents, and I did _not_ need to know this about them.

Esme pressed forward, unabated by my outburst: "I'm just saying that Bella's only human and she can get hurt so eas-…"

I waved my hands in front of my face quickly, silencing Esme.

What was it with mothers and concerns for 'safe sex'? First Renée down in Florida when we visited her after the big Edward-Bella split and now Esme here!

"Esme, you're not telling me anything I don't already know. Besides, it's nothing like that! Bella is very nervous right now, so I thought a morning promenade would settle her nerves."

"And then after her nerves are settled, then …" Esme raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Then we'll come right back in, okay, Esme?"

"Mmhm," Esme's acknowledgement was delivered in complete disbelief. "Just know that your bed is more comfortable for a human than rolling around on the damp, rocky ground and that there may be jutting branches that for a human may …"

I _tsked_ in my own utter disbelief at how unconvinced Esme was.

"_Esme!"_ I said forcefully again, "It's just a walk, _nothing else!"_

"What else would it be?" asked a curious voice behind me.

How in the world can Bella sneak up on me like that with her heart beat and scent announcing her presence from much more than a mile away? Literally.

I glared hard at Esme warning her silently to keep her safe-for-human-sex public service announcements to herself.

I turned to Bella, my blue jeaned and brown tee-shirted Bella — well, at least something had returned to normality in the world this weekend! — and shouted: "Nothing!"

Bella looked as shocked at me as I felt about myself in that instant.

I apologized instantly. "I'm sorry, Bella, I'm sorry! My nerves are a little bit frayed …" then I glanced over my shoulder toward Esme and added spitefully, "_not that I know why —_ I shouldn't have shouted at you. I just …"

Bella put her hand on my arm, looking at me.

I shut up, looking back at her, contrite.

Bella looked at me thoughtfully, mulling over something, then a small smile appeared on her face.

"You want everything to go well for me this weekend, don't you, Rosalie?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, Bella," I answered quietly, then added: "This weekend, and always."

"You're forgetting something, though, you know that, don't you?" she asked.

I thought for a second, but I couldn't see what she meant. I just shook my head, ashamed that I didn't even know what she said I was 'forgetting' and that I couldn't figure out what she needed from me, what more I could do for her … besides mind my unpredictable temper.

Bella's smile was sad. "I'm in this relationship, too, Rosalie. I want you to be happy, too. I want it to work … too. It's not all on you, you know. And I may be a weak little human compared to you, but …"

I opened my mouth to argue her statement, but her raised hand stopped me.

"And I may be, no: I _am_ a weak little human, but I can contribute to this relationship, too, Rosalie. I can do that, but you have to let me do that, too, you know. You have to let me help, you promised that to me, Rosalie … we promised that to each other. Otherwise it'll be just like …"

Her smile tightened into a pained grimace. She looked away and shrugged her shoulders.

I finished the sentence for her in my mind: _otherwise it'll be just like what happened when Edward did everything for her and never listened to her or let her do anything. Ever._

Point taken. Point _so_ taken.

Decorum called for me saying _touch__é _here, but this wasn't a game, and Bella wasn't keeping score.

If she were, I would have lost to her … and lost her … months ago.

"Hey," I said, asking for her attention.

She turned back to look at me.

I smiled sadly at her. "What do you want to do now?"

Bella's chin quivered for a second. "Actually …" she breathed out.

Then she paused.

"Well, a walk sounds nice," she continued, "and I'm dressed for it now, but let me pick the next thing after we're done with the walk, okay?"

Which would be to watch a movie. But I was all movied out, and I didn't want to waste another weekend in front of the 'tube,' with Bella 'vegging out.' That's not a way to make love with each other. It ruins the mood by isolating Bella from me as she becomes absorbed on what's on the TV, not with me, nor allowing me to focus on her, either.

But I promised to allow Bella to be a part of the relationship, a partner, on equal footing.

I sighed. "Okay," I agreed. I tried to be a good sport about it, but … "but, …" I began.

"'But'?" Bella's sad eyes looked right into my soul.

I was silent.

"But, …" she nodded her head, "but you planned everything out perfectly already, right?"

I looked away. I couldn't agree. I mean: 'perfectly'? Not 'perfectly,' just …

… well, my way. I grimaced again at my selfishness and self-centeredness.

"Where is there room in your plans for me?" She asked sadly. "And maybe we can make plans together instead of you making all the plans for this weekend, you know, or not even make plans but just do stuff together, like I did with Charlie? I mean, he didn't like the idea at all, but when we were doing it … he had fun, too, yeah?"

"Bella," I said and sighed, "you're right." I shook my head. "You are right."

I held out my hand. "Let's go for a walk?"

Bella looked at my hand tentatively.

"… then do something you want to do?" I added.

Bella frowned. "I want to go on this walk that you chose, Rosalie," she stated.

"Oh," I said, correcting myself, "so we'll enjoy this walk, and then you'll _choose_ something we … both will enjoy doing together … correct?"

"And how do you know you'll enjoy what I choose, Rosalie?" Bella asked quietly, almost pleadingly.

"Because I will choose to enjoy it," I answered firmly.

Then I thought about what I just said. It was all me again, so I added: "And because I'll be doing it with you."

Because that's why I enjoy anything: because I'm doing it with her.

Bella gave me one of her warm smiles and put her hand in mine.

As we went to the door, I felt the softest of whispers from Esme:

'_Brava, Rosalie … brava!'_

Then I heard her turn to the dishes in the sink.

I opened up the door, and was greeted by an unexpected brightness.

The ever cloud-covered Forks sky had willfully decided today to clear, and the sun was out in all its glory.

_Shit._

* * *

**Chapter end notes:**

[1] Actually, the original meaning of 'gross' is simply 'too much.' So, of course, that's where 'TMI' comes from: gross. Now, I didn't tell Rosalie this, because I just know she would say: 'What does T.M.I. mean?' and I couldn't possibly tell her to look it up on-line, because I just know she would say 'which line?'

Rosalie isn't exactly with it, tech-savvy-wise.

Um, don't tell her I said that. I value my arms _in_ my sockets.

[2] As a reminder: vampires don't forget anything. Rosalie meditates on this in chapter 1.


	7. Zanshin

**Chapter summary**: "You even brought bug-spray? Oh, Rosalie, my hero!" Bella, it's 'heroine' and I brought something better than bug-spray. Much better. ... but Bella ... why won't you open your eyes? Bella?

**Warning:** contains some rather uncomplimentary reflections from our 'entirely impartial' narrator on Mr. Perfect. Rosalie likes Edward as a brother … sort of. Oh, Edward? Did I say 'Edward'? I meant Carlisle … and all the Cullens.

Um, I guess I could reduce the warning to: Rosalie has some issues.

* * *

I hate the sun, if there's anything that points out my alienness, my _inhumanness,_ and puts it there, smothering it right into my face, it's that God-damned, accursed golden orb that reflects off my 'skin' and makes me a beacon of _otherness. God!_ How I hate the …

Hm, I'm doing it again, aren't I? Indulging in my own complaints, condemnations and criticisms. Let me start over.

Bella and I are polar opposites. If my (suppressed) reaction to the sun was that of dismay and anger, hers was exuberant glee. She actually hopped and skipped right out into the light and threw her head back and just soaked in the sun through her closed eyes.

'God, Rosalie, sun! Isn't this wonderful?' she had exclaimed to me.

I tried to make my response appropriately enthusiastic.

It didn't work.

Bella had spent a few more seconds just absorbing the sunlight, but I could see in her stance that her whole demeanor had changed from joy to pensiveness. She had reopened her eyes and looked at me in askance as I stood at the door frame protected from that hated light. She smiled hopefully at me, then waved me to come to her.

I went out to meet her. What else could I do? But then the second I stepped into the light she saw me for what I am.

A monster. An alien. An animated stone statue, glittering with a cold, lifeless flame. Dead.

Pure evil.

Bella may not be a morning person, but look at her basking in the sun. She comes alive in light, she's happy in the the sunshine, her rhythm is in the day.

Me, I'm a creature of the night. And I'm not talking, _oh, vampire!_ Although the (fictional) literature has the right of it, we are very constrained by the day, and are only fully expressed — uninhibited — in the nighttime.

Most predators are nocturnal, don't you know.

But I'm not talking only that, nor am I talking that I don't sleep, and so am as fully awake during the night as I am during the day.

I'm saying that when I say: 'I'm a creature of the night,' I mean that emphatically and literally: I am a creature of the night.

And am I ever.

…

Alice and I have always had a social life, ever since she joined our family, I now had a reason to go out onto the town and not have tattle-tale Edward follow me everywhere I go, just waiting for my slip-up.

That never happened, I'd like to state here for the record. Fucking Edward and his fucking worry-wort nanny complex.

Well, one thing we discovered, Alice and I, after we got Alice and Jasper married (their first and only marriage, unlike how I liked the show and attention of that, so Emmett and I got married every decade or so), was that we liked to go clubbing.

And, strangely enough, it was soon after the time of the 'Bella Swan Debacle' that Alice and I were in NYC ('New York City' to you Philistines) that we accidentally found ourselves in a dyke bar.

And, when I found this out, what a scene I almost made! Think about it. Me, Rosalie Lillian Hale, in a dyke bar? I have a reputation to uphold.

But good thing I didn't, because somehow the bartender(ess?) recognized me from the current month's _Vogue, _and when she carded us (long story) and found out the person in the stool next to me was _the_ C.J. Rae …

You would not believe the attention we got. No, not attention. Adulation. Adoration. Worship. There was a queue of girls with anything in their hands for Alice/C.J. to sign and then the stories they told as their jealous girl friends tried to pull them away …

And the cards and phone numbers I received, when they saw me in the … 'flesh,' not just on the cover of _Vogue_. 'Are you a supermodel?' 'Of course she's a supermodel, you twit!' 'Can I have your phone number?'

I said 'no' to that, but that only seemed to increase their awe and reverence … their worshipfulness.

And to think that I almost shredded Alice when I read the minutes of the board of directors for the Pacific Northwest Hedge fund that basically said Lauren Mallory in school was going to be drooling over me and what I wore when she received her girl-pr0n magazine in her mailbox …

I was simply infuriated, livid, in fact, until the adulation kicked in … then … well, then it wasn't so bad after all. Not so bad at all.

There're signed plaques of Alice and of me on the wall at that bar.

And …

Well, after what was originally a mistaken foray into a bar in NYC that we hadn't yet tried that then turned out to be quite the fortuitous adventure, we discovered an entirely new, thrilling aspect to night clubbing and it became a regular part of our diet. Night clubbing, and particularly at dyke bars, that is, but not the people in the clubs.

After all, a girl needs an unattainable beauty to admire, and Alice and I provided that service. For, after all, we would never be interested in any such, and very often offered liaison, because, of course, neither Alice nor I were lesbians.

There are no such thing as lesbian vampires.

Well, there _were _no such thing … and who would have ever thought it would be me, Rosalie Hale, for goodness sake, to, as was said in my day, suffer such a shameful, disgraceful fall.

Well, besides Mother, but that, too, is another story for another time, and one I don't enjoy revisiting.

So Alice and I enjoyed being that untenable beauty visited upon our adorning fans.

Much to Edward's dismay.

'Oh, vanity, thou art woman,' he would quote ponderously as Alice and I headed out the door toward the airport.

Alice would just laugh at him and say in response: _'Men,'_ but I so wanted to 'just ask' his little mouse of a human girlfriend, that Edward was at first ignoring then walking all over, what she thought about that little _bon mot_ from Mr. 'Oh, you're so perfect!' stuck-up asshole.

I never did get to ask that question. And now with a signed Edward Cullen-Rosalie Hale armistice and with the stuck-up asshole now gone, my question seemed moot.

Pity that. Any day that somebody other than myself acknowledges Edward Cullen is a … well, not the most pleasant, perfect creature his fan-club, headed up by Jessica Stanley (and there's a hint and half at the absurdity of that cause, anybody who follows that girl deserves all the ridicule they get) proclaims that he is, is a good day in my book.

I have had surprising few good days this past century, for Edward Cullen, murderer of over six-hundred souls and disparager of all the rest, is esteemed by all far and wide beyond measure or reason.

Except by himself, his self-hate was only excelled by Aro's self-love, and that right there is the key to the both of them. Oh, Aro makes out, I understand, as wanting just to use Edward, and Edward makes his (civil) dislike of Aro plain for all to see, but really they are two sides of one coin. They both are so self-absorbed that nothing else in the world matters to them other than the man they see in the looking glass.

Assholes, both of them. And that's how they both lost Bella, because they couldn't see beyond themselves to see her for who she is standing right there in the sunlight, right in front of me, so happy in her seriousness, so serious in her happiness.

…

Bella extended her hand to me, smiling her irrepressible smile, her blind smile that showed how she absolutely refused to see what was in front of her, and then she turned and we began our walk.

After a bit, the inevitable 'What's wrong, Rosalie?' came o-so-softly from the beautiful lips that should have been smiling.

Me telling her a casual 'nothing' didn't help, for she just said, 'oh,' in a heartbroken voice that clearly stated that something was wrong now, very wrong.

I knew what was wrong: me. _Great way to spoil a morning stroll, Rosalie Hale,_ I chided myself, but I couldn't blot out the sun with my black mood, as much as I wanted to, as much as I willed the sun just to go to Hell where it belonged.

So I did what I could to salvage what was supposed to be me doing something nice for her. I lied. I told her I was worried that she would get sunburn, having had so little exposure to the sun since she moved to Forks.

She brightened immediately, admitting that she was afraid that I was, in her words, 'getting all, you know, _Rosalie,'_ and my quick but casually delivered, 'Bella, you silly!' put her right back into her good mood. She, as always, went into her problem-solving mode, first thinking about putting on a long-sleeved shirt, but then to my relief rejecting that idea as impractical as the wet heat was nearly too much for her already.

'Oh, I know!' she exclaimed happily, and pulled me toward the shade of the clumpings of trees so prevalent on our property.

And that's how we ended up here.

"Watch me, Rosalie!" she called excitedly, like a little girl in a swimming pool calling out to her mother: _watch me, mommy!_

I don't know why that comparison came to mind, so I shoved it aside guiltily, not knowing what I should think about that and why these feelings arising in me caused so much confusion.

I had never, _ever, _been confused, not as a human, and especially not as a vampire, not even when Bella Pandemonium Swan entered our realm and started upending everything, making our world topsy-turvy.

As a human, I always knew exactly what to do.

As a vampire, I had the absolute clarity that backed what I knew with a steel certainty.

So when the 'Bella Swan Situation' arose, I knew exactly what to do with her.

So did the van, for that matter.

Or I thought I knew what to do to her.

And now, I thought I was back in control, in this new (and entirely unforeseen) situation, yes, but I thought we could chart our course together now.

But now this confusion?

I am in so way over my head.

I hope to God she doesn't see I'm as lost as she is in all this.

"Watch, Rosalie! Watch!" Bella called out with impatient joy, and I smiled faintly and waved, looking at her, just as a mother wou-…

Stop thinking that way. _You will never have a baby, Rosalie Hale, so don't turn Bella into a proxy._

I ate my self-loathing thoughts — they tasted bitter — before Bella could notice another thing in me to worry about.

Bella took the smooth stone in her hand, and threw it overhand with all her might into the Sol Duc river that adjoined our extensive grounds.

_Plop_ went the stone into the river about ten feet from where Bella stood.

I looked in Bella in askance.

She looked disappointed. "The last one almost skipped. Here, wait, I've got it."

She picked up another stone and threw it into the river in exactly the same manner.

_Plop._

Bella looked back at me and pouted.

I sighed and got up from ground under the shade of the tree and went to her.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," I chided, then explained: "you have to side-arm it."

Bella looked at me with blank eyes.

Surely she knew what I was talking about.

"You know," I added, "like in softball."

Bella twisted her eyebrows. "I was never in softball, Rosalie."

"Of course you were, Bella, you had to be," I said with exasperation, hiding the laughter I was experiencing inside my being.

"Huh? No, Rose, I know I wasn't," Bella said, not getting it. "I mean: look at these arms."

I looked down at her spaghetti-thin arms.

She continued: "Why are you so sure that I did? I never played softball at Forks High, and I know I didn't back in Phoenix, so why …"

I smiled. "All lesbians have to play softball in high school, Bella, that's a rule."

"_God! Rosalie!" _Bella exclaimed, blushing hard, "I didn't even know that I was …"

Then Bella's eyes narrowed. "Wait," she glowered, "are you …" then she paused.

I 'buddy-punched' Bella. That is, my closed fist just barely touched her arm.

"Oh … my God!" Bella exclaimed, getting it. She asked me, "Did you just make a joke?" the disbelief raising her alto voice nearly a whole octave.

I finally did release a quiet laugh.

Bella squeaked in surprise and dropped to her knees.

"Bella," I asked in surprise, "what are you doing?"

Bella was making a mess with the stone in her hand on the thin strip of sand that acted as a riverbank.

Bella dictated the what turned out to be what she was writing, illegibly, in the sand: "'Today, Saturday, August 19th, 2006, Rosalie Hale made a joke.'"

Then she pressed her hand into the sand below what she just … 'wrote' and stood up, confronting me right to my face.

"There, proof!" she crowed. "Now you can never deny that this happened." Then she glared at me. "So there!" she added for emphasis.

"Proof?" I asked innocently. "What proof, Bella?"

"Rosalie, it's right th-…" Bella looked down and gulped.

While sweet little fierce Bella was in my face, I had surreptitiously and perfectly evened out the sand with the sole of my foot.

"_Hmmphf!"_ Bella snarled, "Go ahead, used your sneaky magic powers; I don't care! I'll remember this; I'll remember what I wrote even if it's the only memory I carry forward when I'm changed!"

My victorious smile froze on my face.

Bella had broken a rule.

Rule number one, of course, was not to compare me to Edward. She got that rule loud and clear after our spat where I left her at her house, punishing the both of us so terribly with our separation, requiring an 'Alice intervention' to save the relationship from dying before it even got off the ground.

That was rule number one, but there was another very important rule.

Rule number two, that we had never talked about, that we had never even spoken to each other, was that Bella was not to talk during our sweetie times together about the eventuality or the necessity of her becoming a vampire.

She knew my feelings on this issue. She knew what a blow it will be to me when that day comes when that last heartbeat silences in her chest, robbing her of her life and humanity forever, recreating her as a bloodthirsty ravenous monster. She knows I know the necessity of this.

That doesn't mean I have to like it.

I don't know what I said to her. I must have said something agreeable, like, 'yes, I'm sure it will be something you remember,' or something like that to smooth the breach, to hide the turmoil I felt churning within me, to stop me from grabbing her and shaking her until her organs liquified and screaming at her until her eardrums burst.

I must have said something … nice like that to hide my absolute shock.

But Bella saw that, too, God damn it, and God damn her insightfulness.

It must be part of her gift. We had all seen that she can hide everything from the most powerful vampires in the world. Bella, even as a 'mere' human, was already more powerful in her gift than any vampire in existence. So perhaps she also has the opposite ability as part of her gift. Perhaps she can see everything hidden from all humanity, for a vampire to lie to a human is simplicity in itself.

Except when I try to lie to Bella.

Bella's fierceness instantly changed to concern.

"Rosalie … are you okay?" gentleness overwhelmed her earlier fierceness.

I smiled. It appeared to be an easy smile. "Sure, Bella, I'm fine."

Bella frowned-smiled. You know that smile of hers? The smile she tries to push through her concern? That smile. I saw the debate of her disbelief cross her face: it was written large on her brow. She wanted to believe me even as she knew she didn't.

She either won her debate … or lost it.

"Okay …" she said hesitantly, "…"

She had almost said something, in that pause, but then smiled sadly and said instead, "so then, will you …"

Then she cast about desperately for something to say next.

I saw the light go on in her head, she handed me the rock in her hand, smiling at me.

"Will you show me how to throw it right?" she asked.

I smiled back, relieved at the change in topic.

I launched right into: "See, Bella, what you were doing was …"

And I explained the difference between the overhand and side-arm throw and as I explained I moved my arm along those paths, showing her how she did throw the rocks and how she should have thrown them if she wanted them to skip at all.

The whole time, Bella looked at me attentively, respectfully, even. It was like she was placing her trust in me completely, even in this little thing of how to move her arm to skip a rock over the water.

And I felt …

I felt a new surge of protectiveness for her, the way she looked at me, and new level of responsibility that was terrifying for me, because it meant that another person was placing herself into my care.

Nobody had ever done that before.

I pushed through these realizations to deliver my lecture, and at the end of it, I smiled at Bella and asked: "Okay, got it?"

Bella nodded … or tried to.

"Um," she began, "maybe you could … show me once?"

"Okay," I answered easily. "See what you do is …"

And then with a side-arm flick, I skimmed the rock across the water. It bounced once in a flat arc, but that arc carried it past the far shore into the forest. I heard the _crack_ of the stone ricocheting off a tree, then a report of a sound like a gun-shot. Hm, I think it shattered itself against the imposing obelisk of a rock, perhaps half-a-mile away.

Bella squinted at the far-shore and jumped a little bit at the sound of the rock when it exploded into powder in the distance.

Bella turned, looking at me.

"Well," I said embarrassedly, "you get the idea, right?"

"Actually, …" Bella said slowly, "that went a little too … _fast?_ for me to see how you did it? Could you show it to me again, maybe, please, just a little bit slower? I'll look really hard this time."

I sigh-smiled. This is why I hated sports … human sports, that is. For I loved our baseball, especially when I got lucky and just _planted _that baseball into Edward's bored face.

Edward learned to pay attention when I was at bat. And _that_ is how a girl hits.

Hard.

But, okay: 'slo-mo' for Bella's sake. I could manage that. After all, three years of gym class was (barely) tolerable.

"Okay, Bella," I said, "watch carefully," and languidly, and very, very lightly, I moved my arm through the side-arm throw.

This new stone kissed the water mid-stream, just as the last one did, but this one skipped twice on the water before landing on the opposite shore, stopping there.

I looked at the stone, pleased at it that it provided a better example.

"There," I said to Bella, "you see?"

Bella smiled at me. "I got it," she said confidently.

She picked up a rock, and threw it into the river. Exactly like she had before.

_Plop._

I sighed, and was about to offer advice, but Bella hummed thoughtfully to herself.

She picked up another rock, and concentration lined her brow.

She mumbled to herself: "I gotta swing my arm lower."

Then she threw the rock, her arm dropping a few millimeters lower this time.

_Plop._

Bella pouted at me.

"Great job, Bella!" I enthused.

Bella's brow clouded in confusion. "But the rock didn't do anything different!" she complained to me.

"Don't worry about that," I reassured her. "The thing of it is that your throw is improving, when you perfect the throw, the rock will skip, Bella."

"Oh," she said, picking up another rock, brow furrowed.

She threw again, this time doing a semi-side-arm toss.

_Skip, plop. _The rock hit the water, then skipped a few inches before going under.

Bella's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"D'ja see that, Rosalie?" She was almost vibrating in place.

I smiled at her. "Yes, I did, sweetie. Keep practicing and you'll be a rock-skipper extraordinaire in no time."

Bella glowed and stooped to pick up more rocks from the sand.

I retreated to the shade. The Forks sky had predictably become clouded again, but there were patches of sunlight here and there. I didn't want to be out in the open and get caught again, exposing me to me for what I am.

I didn't need reminders. I already know what I am.

From the shade I watched Bella practicing.

It was just painful to watch her trying so hard.

She was doing it all wrong. Her throw was atrocious, but what was worse was her _zanshin_. She had this wanting-wanting-wanting look of desperation written large across her face and body as she followed the stone in its arc. She didn't let it go or just be with what was happening at all: her attachment and nervousness just weighted the stone down.

No wonder why the stones she threw, but never really released, didn't skip at all.

I was going to comment on this when Bella suddenly slapped her exposed arm, hard.

Ah, yes: mosquitos. The warm, wet overcast weather, close to water, and no vampires nearby, were all a magnet for the other blood suckers that came out to feast on the only animal (and that would be Bella) daring to appear within miles of our marked territory.

Bella brushed away her kill and returned to her game, but I saw the welt rise. She slapped away another mosquito and then scratched the welt absentmindedly.

"Bella, stop that!" I barked.

She _cannot_ open a wound, no matter how small, not where she is and especially not if she was planning on having any contact with me at all. And since that was the plan, then, particularly contact of the _intimate_ kind, … well, scratching a bite was entirely out of the question.

Bella gasped and moved her scratching fingers away from the welt. "But it itches," she whined, then her hand lashed out to the back of her neck.

'_But it itches'?_ If any other girl in the world had said that, with _that _scent just wafting off her, I would have repeated her words to her sarcastically and then ask, 'What, do you want to fucking die?'

Or … I wouldn't have said anything. I would have just let her scratch until that tiny little pin-prick had opened up, and that drop or two had come out, and then I would have gone right up to her and answered that call of her blood, _finally,_ and taste that alluring taste and _know_ was it really is to be a vampire and not drink that _shit_ we drink all the time and …

What? I know what you're thinking, but why do I have to be the perfect one all the time? Everybody else gets to indulge and make their mistakes, and I'm just so tired of always being held to a higher standard by _every single one of them have at one time or another totally ignored to indulge in a … _

Well, except Carlisle.

Asshole. I mean, he's _never_ made a mistake; he's never even entertained the thought, not only has he not ever killed anyone (which is just wrong, being a vampire and having never killed anyone? Gutless wonder!), but he's a practicing physician where he's sometimes _swimming_ in blood from a trauma victim from an auto accident or logging incident, but does he even blink? Does he even wet his lips and just suck in a bit of all that blood that he's elbow deep in?

It's just not natural. I don't even think he was ever human. He must have been like this perfect being before he became a vampire and he became one to lord it over the rest of us, showing the rest of the world his perfect little coven, which he just _has _to call his 'family,' and his perfect, prim little wifey, and his perfect little special children, all so talented.

That's why he picked me in that alleyway. 'Oh, Rosalie Hale, she'll be _perfect_ for my _perfect_ Edward. Oh, how nice it will be!'

So he makes me into this monster because he was practicing vampire family planning, and following his manifested destiny. But did he _ever_ ask if I had anything to say about it?

Oh, no! Not _Doctor_ Carlisle Cullen: he knows what's best for everybody all the time, even, and especially, when they have an entirely different set of concerns, like _not existing eternally as a hate-filled ravenous monster!_

Yes, I have issues with the Cullens. Why do you think I've _never_ taken that family name? You can have me around your family, and I'll be with you, but you can't have _me_ and you can't _make_ me be this perfect, happy little daughter you so want me to be for your perfect, happy little family.

I see them just looking so longingly at Bella to fulfill that role for them. And I say to that: over my burned-to-a-cinder husk! When Bella does join 'our' family, I'm going to set down some rules for them … if they start pushing her into some perfect little daughter role, well, then Bella and I will just have to leave them for a long while until they're ready to treat her with respect, as another being, not as some baby doll to make-over or to mother.

Speaking of my baby doll …

"Shoot!" she exclaimed. She looked steamed now, irritated by the pests.

"Bella …" I began, but stopped when she glared at me.

I smiled wanly.

Bella stamped her foot_, _and then launched herself toward the house.

"Where are you going?" I asked, surprised at the sudden burst of energy from her.

"To get bug spray!" she called as she continued to march.

God, she is so cute when she gets that little kitten anger of hers!

"Bella, wait!" I said … she didn't wait … "It's okay. I've got what you need to keep the bugs away right here."

That pulled her up short. She turned to me and said in wonder: "You brought bug spray?"

I smiled and waved her over to me. Bella came obediently, albeit curiously and a bit cautiously.

"Let's see those bites," I said.

Oh, the pitiful look that entered Bella's big brown eyes when she showed me her upper arm. She, with that look, could have sold life insurance … to a vampire. I would have bought a policy or two. I would have even used the policy: jumping in front of a truck for her.

Oh, wait. That one was already done. Well, van instead of truck: leave it to Edward to milk every bit of drama he could from a situation. Instead of the headliner in the _Forks Forum_ being 'Girl Crushed By Van' — oh, too bad, so sad — Edward turned that around to 'Local Boy a Hero!'

Well, at least they got one thing correct in the new headline: _boy._ _Petulant, self-absorbed_ boy would have been more accurate than '_local,'_ but I kept that thought to myself as best as I could.

Let's move on from that Edward and onto more pleasant things, like what I could do to help that look on Bella's face.

I smiled at her expression and then encircled the bites on her arm with my hand.

Bella's pitiful look because shocked, then melted into relief.

"Wow, Rose," Bella sighed, "that feels so good!"

"And you have a bite on your neck?" I asked, very pleased that she called me _Rose_ again and so easily.

"Uh-huh," Bella answered, very nearly relaxed.

She brushed her long hair out of the way of the bite, then, hooking it in her hand with a half twist, pulled it away from dimpled skin.

_Perfect, _I thought, and brought my other hand behind her exposed neck to rest it, gently over the bite.

Bella hummed with relieved pleasure, closing her eyes.

I looked at my Bella, head thrown slightly back, eyes closed, relaxed posture and half-wrapped in my arms.

"But won't it be kind of hard," Bella asked distantly, just so completely giving herself to this moment, to me, "for you to put the bug spray on me with you holding me like this?"

And I felt it. I felt it originate in my chest and then radiate through my body. It wasn't a physical sensation, because vampires don't have a metabolism, they don't have bodily reactions.

But we do have _want._ And I felt that want just explode from right in the middle of me, rapidly expanding from there throughout my body to radiate even to my extremities, and then beyond my body to encompass her.

And from that want, I growled a hungry, "Who said anything about bug spray?"

Bella opened her eyes in confusion, and started to say, "Huh?"

But her inarticulate query was cut short when I stepped between her stance, pressed my lips to hers, shifted my hand from her arm to her back, wrapping her completely in my arms, and then pulled her into me.

"Nmmphf?" Bella grunted in surprise into my lips.

I felt her pulling back in surprise, but I wasn't having any of that. She didn't understand what was happening.

What was happening, Bella, dear, is that I'm kissing you. Don't understand. Go with it.

I pulled her into me a bit more and pressed forward into her a bit more.

Yes, I'm being a bit demanding.

But then Bella got it, and I felt her relaxing and then participating. She wrapped her freed hand around my back and returned my kiss.

Her _zanshin_ was improving.

My tongue reached out and touched her bottom lip, and she hummed, but she didn't open my mouth for my questing tongue.

Hm. I guess Edward hadn't french kissed her, then. That is a state of affairs that will have to change.

And right now.

My hand on her back reached further down and grasped her pert ass. I gave it a little squeeze as I pushed her hips into mine.

Bella gasped in shock, opening her mouth in surprise, and my questing tongue went in.

_Ah! Heaven!_

The very taste of her on my tongue was indescribably delicious, and I rested it on top of hers, flicking a bit with the tip, and just moving my tongue ever so slightly in-and-out, and side-to-side. This wasn't violent, however: I wasn't giving her mouth a tongue-fuck; no, it was sweet and lazy: a gentle french kiss.

And Bella was with it, she was with me, and she ever so gently began to suck on my tongue. And then I felt her self totally give into the kiss, and I felt her leg lift itself just a bit and wrap itself around mine, attaching itself to my calf.

And then that eventuality came where Bella started to pull back so she could breathe again.

But I didn't let her go. People breathe through their noses; people can hold their breath for more than a few seconds. Bella didn't need to breathe, not really.

No, she needed me. And I needed her. Only her.

And she felt that, and she … accepted that. She didn't pull back a bit more this time, for if she did, I would have, very regretfully, let her go. No, this time she just let herself go. She just totally gave herself to me: completely and trustingly.

And in that moment I felt her. I felt _her._ I was with her, and I felt her fully empty everything of herself of just … everything. She became completely open, completely empty, … completely nothing.

And _her,_ that nothingness, fully yielding to me just so surrounded me. It was indescribable: I ascended into the fullness, the completeness, the nothingness that was her. In this moment, I was completely one with her as she sucked so gently on my tongue, holding me to her as I held her to me.

_Being _with her in her nothingness.

I assumed that Bella would learn how to breathe through her nose as she held my kiss, or, actually, that she would be forced to do this, as I held her into it.

But she didn't. She didn't struggle. She didn't try to breathe. She just gave herself, completely, to me, to the kiss, to my care.

Did she even care one wit about herself at all? No. Her heart rate began to fall as the oxygen was no longer replenished in her lungs. She didn't even try to breathe.

And I was completely overpowered this complete self-giving of hers. I was completely overcome by her. In her absolute, complete and total yielding to me, casting aside even concern for her own life, she so completely made me hers. I felt a love for her that so went beyond anything I thought that was even possible for me to feel.

So I just let go. I let go of my concerns for me. I let go of worrying about her and worrying that she wasn't worrying for herself. I just let go of everything to be with her in this kiss.

And for just one more precious second I was with her. I felt every part of her body pressed against mine, I felt her complete slackness of her frame. I felt her lips against my lips, her tongue, relaxed, beneath mine.

I am for you, Bella. You are for me, and I am for you.

I withdrew my tongue from her mouth; lightly withdrew my lips with a parting kiss, opened my eyes as I pulled back and looked at her, cradled in my arms.

God! She is so beautiful, so peaceful-looking with her eyes closed and head tilted back, resting in my hand, so at rest, so still.

And …

She wasn't breathing.

* * *

**Chapter end notes:**

[1] I learned of Alice being a luminary in the fashion world from the story Lunière by siDEADde who herself referenced an unpublished?/removed? story by Mandi1 called "The Original" or "The Original C.J. Rae" … Gah! I wish that story was available somewhere for me to read, because it sounds really neat. And yes, I've thought of (an honest-to-God) one-shot about Alice's and Rosalie's adventure at that bar in NYC. It starts with Rosalie ordering a 'Bloody Bella' and then her very vocal opinion of her hate of the girl in question goes rather downhill from there. When it does come out, it will be called "Clubbing."

[2] Rosalie has an … interesting relationship with her mother, and bb explored that a bit, quite a bit in his story "Rose by a Lemon Tree." I'll be taking a very little look here in this story (but not much I hope, by God, Gwendolyn is quite the scene-chewer-upper and spitter-outer), and I hope only once in the chapter "My Nightly Shower" in my story "The Bells are Ringing."

I am quite scared at the prospect of writing the scenes with Rosalie's mother.

[3] Um, I have Bella's skinny arms, too, so, yes, we have no bananas, and yes, I didn't play softball in high school nor in college. Not that has anything to do with anything … well, actually it does.

Okay, this here is a 'The below text is really serious' warning.

Stereotypes are there, sure, because they _are_ true in a lot of cases, like the generalization I get on occasion: 'Oh, lezzy girls play softball,' but that does _not_ give you permission to go up to a girl who plays softball and 'just ask' if she's a lesbian, or to go up to a lesbian (or to a person you assume is a lesbian) and 'just ask' if she plays softball. And, 'oh, but I was just kidding'? That one doesn't fly with me, so if you 'just ask' me and then (not) apologize by saying you were 'just kidding' … you and I are going to have a talk, and it's your choice if we do it off-line or in the EEO office. And that scares the shit out of some people, about that bitch-lezzy 'phfina who can't take a joke, but when I got girls coming up to me about their bosses or coworkers sexually harassing them or using language or intimidation that creates a hostile work environment, I tell them where I draw the line and where corporate does, too. It's in your corporate or campus or school handbook, you can look it up.

In the country where I live and work, I have a right, by law, to live and to work in a sexual-harassment-free and discrimination-free environment, and, if you live in the country where I do (or even in a lot of countries I don't), so do you.

And I'm _not_ saying go on some crusade, but I'm also not saying buck up or knuckle under because they're 'just kidding' and you don't want to be labeled a whistle-blower. Remember the assault flowchart: violence is preceded by threats and threats are preceded by 'jokes' and caricatures/labeling/stereotyping. When one level is unchallenged, it's so easy to proceed to the next level.

And guess what: this affects guys, too. Guys can be sexually harassed or discriminated against, too, so this is not a 'phfina looking out only for girls note. Discrimination turns the workplace ugly for everybody, managers, workers, and customers alike, so let's cut it out, by calling it out and just not accepting unacceptable workplace or societal behavior.

And the 'Oh, 'phfina, chill out, you're taking this so seriously.' You bet I am. In a place where not twenty years ago they were doing cross burnings in our town? And in a country where this year people protected by law but who were singled out for their sexual orientation and killed because of that lifestyle?

You bet I'm taking this seriously. And if you look in your not to distant past or even right now, you, or someone you love, has a reason to take it seriously, too. You come at me with your 'just asking'/'just kidding' or inappropriate whatever, and I put on my Righteous Rosalie.

Damn straight. … I mean, 'straight' as in … well, never mind.

And I did warn you at the beginning of this note that I was getting all serious.

[4] From wikipedia: _zanshin_ (残心) is in kyudo (archery), loosely, the body posture after the loosing of an arrow. Did you see me just now use two totally different meanings of the word 'loose'? Funny that, coming from a girl who is … okay, 'phfina, don't go there … And before you ask: yes, I've read _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance._ I've even read the book it's (not) based on: _Zen and the Art of Archery._ I have to say, I kept checking the Pirsig book out to see if he based the main character on my father. I'm going to have to call Dad and ask if he ever went by the name of Phaedrus.

[5] The Forks, Washington newspaper is the _Forks Forum._

[6] Okay, sweethearts, yes, and my dear existentialists: yes, I know Sartre wrote _Being and Nothingness_ but is Rosalie describing a moment that's existential or transcendental, hm?


	8. Bug Bites

**Chapter summary**: Okay, new rules: 1) no dying while kissing, and so 2) remember to breathe, for goodness sake! I think we have to put these rules into effect now, with practice. Lots of practice.

* * *

"Bella," I called softly.

No reaction. And then I started to worry. Yes, she had a pulse, but shouldn't she start breathing again on her own? Would I have to give her mouth to mouth?

I am in so much trouble, and the teasing I would get from Alice?

But, what if she's dies?

Vampires don't panic. We are eternal, so if there's a problem or an inconvenience, we simply wait for the appropriate time to act. If a mountain is in the way, we can wait the millions of years for the Earth to move it out of the way.

Vampires appear so calm and cool, because we are. Problems? What problems? Given enough time, problems go away.

But Bella is in time. So I cannot simply wait for her to start breathing again, because this may be the time where she just doesn't start breathing again anymore.

I had never panicked as a vampire, not when Royce hid himself in the bank vault, not when his two guards pulled their tommy guns on me, not when I found Emmett being mauled by that bear. There was never a need to panic before because things would happen as I planned them, if not now, then I could wait until they did or I could use my strength to force the issue.

But with Bella, it seemed I was in a constant state of panic. Just simply driving her truck put her very life into my hands, because if I didn't stop her from flying forward when the car in front of us stopped suddenly …

And now, with her not breathing ...

My worry turned to panic, and I shifted Bella in my arms to lay her on the always-wet ground. With that shift, however, I heard the breath go into her and felt her lungs fill again.

About a quarter of a second had passed since I had called her name.

I felt the life, her being, reenter her, and the absolute slackness of her frame ease into an awareness that she had a body again. I found that I had been holding my own breath, for when she was no longer here, everything stopped. But now that she was back, well, everything mattered again, because she was here again.

Bella opened her eyes lazily, but then looked at me in confusion.

"Why did you stop?" she asked a bit petulantly.

I couldn't help the very small bark of laughter that forced itself past my sealed lips. I embraced her, then folded myself into a sitting position on the ground, putting Bella's totally compliant form into my lap, facing away from me.

I rested my chin on her shoulder and whispered chidingly, "Okay, you, no more kisses for you."

"What?" Bella asked shocked. "Why?"

Bella never got when I was teasing her.

Of course, I could understand that. I never had a reason to tease anybody until she came along.

I answered, "No more kisses until you learn to breathe while you're kissing."

"Who needs the air?" Bella asked with her innocent seriousness.

God! I love her.

I kissed her shoulder and said sadly, "You do, sweetheart."

"Ha!" she responded, "so you think!"

"So I know," I came right back, surprised that she was so flip about this and so serious in her belief.

Bella snorted.

"How are you?" I asked quietly, and I heard the concern in my voice. And I was a little bit … well, not scared, but surprised by that. I had never cared about nor for anybody before.

I had never needed to before.

I felt Bella smile. "How would you be after a kiss like that? … I feel a little bit woozy, but, you know, it a good way. You up for the next one?"

"Are you?" I asked in surprise, but then interrupted my own question as I felt Bella's ready assent manifest itself. "Don't answer that, we should get you back inside."

"Hmmphf!" Bella snorted with disappointment. "Why?"

"Do I recall hearing somebody saying they were 'woozy'?" I asked gently.

"Yeah," Bella's tone didn't agree at all. "But I'm fine now."

"Mmhm," I said disbelievingly. "Can you even get up?"

She retorted: "I can if you let me go!"

I felt her back tense defiantly, so I unwrapped my encircling arms, and putting my hands behind me on the ground, leaned back into them. I'm sure she could sense me humoring her, and I saw the resolve to prove herself to me further fill her with purpose.

Bella 'stood up.'

Bella standing up was an entertaining sight. She got up slowly, carefully, and she had to push herself off the ground. She also swayed a bit as she stood.

But stand she did. She carefully turned to face me and crossed her arms triumphantly.

"Way to go, Bella," I said, "you stood up. Shall I applaud?"

"Hmmphf!" She harrumphed again. "I'm gonna go skip more rocks now, Miss Superior."

"Wait," I said, and rose easily. "Let me take care of those bites."

"What?" Bella asked, then clarified: "So you really did bring bug spray?"

I smiled at her. "Close your eyes," I whispered.

She looked at me in askance. She probably thought I was — how did they say it these days? — 'blowing off' her question or she may have been perplexed at my indirect answer.

I felt my smile go from just on my face to my entire being as I looked at her, looking at me.

"And this time, remember to breathe," I added.

Bella now got it.

She closed her eyes obediently, she tilted her head back, and puckered those pouty lips of hers. I shook my head, smiling. Her invitation could have been so, so sexy, if it weren't so damn cute.

"Bella," I whispered.

"Yeaaahhh," she breathed back, sultrily.

Bella being sultry. I couldn't repress the snort of laughter that was, fortunately, too quiet for her to hear. I pressed my lips together firmly and regained my composure.

This, after all, was serious.

I said, "Whatever you do, don't make any sudden movements. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Bella whispered, eyes still closed, head still leaning back, but I saw the instant understanding of my request also still her further.

I stepped up to her, wrapping her in my arms. Always there was that instant of surprise at my intentionality, but this time she was quicker to accept, she brought her arms up around me now, carefully, holding me back, lightly.

I kissed her, lightly, on the lips, and she was eager to kiss me back, opening her mouth.

My eager little Bella.

But I wouldn't have that. I pulled back, and she gasped out a whine, but I silenced that with another light kiss. She sighed in relief and kissed me back. And I kissed her again, and again, letting her be comfortable with these light, sweet kisses. Letting her be comfortable that we could be passionate but we didn't always have to be. That we could take it easy and even we could take it easy and be passionate with each other at the same time.

I kissed her, and she kissed me, and we just did these light, sweet kisses … until _I_ couldn't take it any longer, the warmth and the sweetness of her, and my tongue went to her lip and licked it, lightly.

Bella was ready. She opened her mouth and moaned into my lips, and my tongue went in. She signed contently on my tongue.

Then her tongue moved around, seeking my mouth.

I pulled back quickly, and scolded, "No, Bella!"

She opened her eyes, surprised. "Why not?"

"Bella," I said, "my teeth are razor sharp. Anything going into my mouth will get cut, and if you get cut, and blood goes in …"

I left the implication hanging there. She knew full well that once the bloodlust is triggered we become sharks, going into a feeding frenzy that just doesn't stop … not for love, not for anything.

She looked at me sadly. "Can't you be careful?"

I closed my eyes and reopened them. I sighed, "Yes, I can, honey, by not letting you put any of you into my mouth."

"But, what if …" she tried.

"Bella, there is no 'what if.' Put your tongue between two razor blades? You're going to get nicked, no matter how careful you are."

Bella took in my words, but then she looked thoughtful.

I spat, "And don't you dare try practicing that at home to prove me wrong. If I hear from Carlisle that you've ended up at the hospital on some stupid stunt, I will so …"

"Okay, okay," Bella said quickly, interrupted. "Got it: no tongues!"

Then she muttered: _"Jeez!"_ and it looked by the crease on her brow that she wanted to say more but her mouth remained firmly shut as she glowered.

I let her go. "And now you're angry with me." I said sadly.

Bella looked shocked. "Huh? Rosalie, no, it's just that …"

I smiled sadly, "Just what?"

She smiled back. "I just wish we were equals, you know?"

"Yes, Bella, I do, too." And I felt the strangest sensation. I felt my lips quiver, but I felt absolutely nothing, too.

For I knew what she meant. She meant that she wanted to be equal to me in her physicality. She meant she wanted to be 'equal' to me as a vampire.

But she didn't know what I meant. I wanted my humanity back, but that couldn't happen. An egg, once cooked, can't be anything other than a cooked egg, it can't go back to being an uncooked egg. There's no going back for me, and I know this, and that's all there is to it. Being a human being as Bella is simply is a foolish yearning, and Rosalie Hale does not entertain silly fancy.

But Bella as a person, as a being, no matter what she is, human or vampire … ?

I wish I could be even one-tenth the person she is. But that too is an absurdity to pine for as well. I cannot be anything other than I am.

Twisted. Broken. Damaged. Hateful. Evil. Black, through and …

"Kiss me," Bella pleaded.

She stood there, looking so sad, looking so sadly at me, as she looked right into my black soul thinking my black thoughts.

I smiled at her, "Do you want me to?"

A single tear fell from her eye onto the ground.

"Always," she whispered, looking so alone in her stillness.

I embraced her again and kissed her forehead lightly.

"Bella," I demanded, "how can you eat that mess you call cereal if I'm always kissing you?"

Then I quickly kissed her lips before she could retort.

But she did retort, _"Hmmphf!"_ she snorted into my lips.

But she did return my kiss.

Do you know how when somebody — that would be me — breaks the mood, that it takes time to recapture that feeling?

It took a few kisses for us to give each other to each other again. And then, I felt the moment was right, but I was also shy, so I just very lightly brushed her lip with my tentative tongue.

Bella had no such reservations. She again, so willingly, opened her mouth for me, and I gently slide my tongue in. And she again sighed contentedly, and sucked at me, at my questing, shy tongue.

And I sucked back, oh, so gently. And pulled out of the kiss.

"Too short!" Bella groused faintly.

"Bella," I said quietly, "don't move."

She froze, stiffening.

"Relax, honey," I whispered, and I felt the tension in her muscles throughout her body bleed out a bit.

And then I tilted head slightly toward her right shoulder … and brought my lips down … to her neck.

Bella hissed in a shocked breath when she felt my lips on her neck.

So I waited. Not breathing. Not thinking. _So_ not trying to feel her pulse on my lips.

I waited until her panted hyperventilation slowed along with her super-elevated pulse.

I waited.

And then, when she had calmed enough to regain her senses, my tongue went out, and licked, and caressed her skin, so tasty, and sought out and found that little bump of skin irritated by the mosquito bite.

_"Ahhh!"_ Bella cried in shock, but then as my tongue continued its caress, her cry of shock turned to a moan of pleasure, and she wrapped her hands around me, and she held onto me so tightly, as tightly as she could. My little Bella held onto me with all her might.

"Oh, God! Rosalie that _feels so good!"_ Bella exclaimed.

And I felt it, too. I felt the venom mixed with her saliva attach itself to her frail skin, but instead of the venom burning into her flesh to consume her, it, mixed with her saliva, went to work on the bite, numbing it, neutralizing the toxin of the bug bite with my own venom, my own poison … and her own sweet, sweet, irresistible and neutralizing mucus.

I very carefully raised my head away from _that pull_ of Bella's neck and looked at her.

She was in ecstasy: relaxed, eyes closed, at peace.

"Now let's take care of that arm," I said quietly.

I kissed her, and she sighed in relief, as if her lips missed my lips, and her hand travelled up the my head and she pulled herself into the kiss, trying to lift herself off the ground to better press her lips up to mine.

So I brought my head down further, pressing my lips into hers, and opened them.

Bella caught on quickly — she is such a diligent and fast little learner, isn't she? — and opened her mouth me, and I just felt the eager anticipation of her mouth, awaiting my tongue.

I didn't disappoint her. My tongue darted in, and found its new, happy, wet and warm home. And Bella welcomed my tongue home, as if we had been kissing like this for years and years. As if we were the oldest of friends or the most comfortable of lovers.

And soon after I had sucked out more of that heavenly saliva, I pulled away again.

Bella held onto my head, willing my lips to stay on hers, but I still pulled back gently, albeit so easily against her straining hand.

Bella sighed in frustration. Such a greedy little kisser: that's my Bella.

But despite her want, I unwrapped her hand from around me, turning her arm so that the bug bites were facing toward me. I looked up from her arm to her face to warn her, but her eyes, now opened, looking at me, smiled in compliance. So I bent down again, carefully putting my lips to her arm, and even though she now anticipated this, it didn't stop her little heart from going into overdrive, so it didn't stop the moment of my waiting for her to calm down. And when she did, my tongue went out from my not-breathing, not-tasting, not-thinking, trying-not-to-wanting self, and caressed those bites, and we worked our magic on the arm of this magical creature called Bella Swan.

She sighed as the irritation and itchiness was replaced by the hot-cold numbness of our salve.

I pulled back and looked into the endless depth of those chocolate brown pools that are Bella's eyes.

"There," I said, pleased.

Bella didn't look pleased. "Mawhre?" she begged.

I ran the word through my head until I realized she was asking for _'more.'_

"Oh, go throw rocks, you silly girl!" I scolded, pleased.

Bella gave me the big eyes. "Why?" she asked.

Her big eyes always-always worked on me. But not this time.

"Because," I explained patiently and regretfully, "Jasper and Alice are coming here, I suppose to check on us."

"Oh!" Bella's face went white as she comprehended what I told her, and then she scampered as quickly as her wobbly legs could carry her back to the river's edge.

As I watched from the shade my Bella as she moved quickly away from me then furtively glanced around as she scooped up some rocks, I wondered how in the world it was possible for someone to emote guilt as effectively as Bella did in their scampering. It looked as if she were caught red-handed in a heinous crime, for goodness sake!

Or, in Bella's case: red-faced. I swallowed the venom her very look cause to pool in my mouth and felt it sear my throat as it went down, and turned to welcome my dear brother and sister.

At the Sol Duc river, there were more kinds of bugs than just mosquitos. I couldn't wait for the 'pleasant visit' from that buggy couple, Alice and Jasper.

And just as things were getting really, really promising, too.

I shook my head. _Family!_ I thought scornfully, always butting in at the perfect moment … not to.

* * *

**Chapter End Note:**

[1] Vampire venom and human saliva is like sweet-smelling ben-gay, or a balm. I write a bit about this in my story "The Bells are Ringing." I got this idea from my bb's story "Rose by a Lemon Tree," … it makes sense to me, and, besides which … Rosalie kissing away my bug-bite boo-boos? Oh, yes, please. … In fact, … _mawhre?_

[2] Bella gets her revenge for Rosalie's bossiness here. She later gives Rosalie the same command: _no tongues_ in my story that follows this one, "The Bells are Ringing," chapter 2 ("Safe Word").

[3] Bella almost gets thrown from her truck if not for Rosalie rescuing her by holding her in place in Jocelyn Torrent's story "Rose Read" from which this story follows. Remember, sweeties, always wear your seat belt when your in a car, even if you're in the back seat, too! 'Cause if you try to pull that _*ahem*_ in my car, I'll have to drive you to the hospital to recover from me kicking your derrière.


	9. Okay?

**Chapter summary**: Do you know what a stone going into the Sol Duc River at high velocity sounds like? It sounds like gunshot.

* * *

"So," Alice said, perkily, as she pranced onto the scene, towing _her_ Jasper along.

Alice surely has 'perky' down pat.

And Jasper? He strode onto the scene like a lion. He strutted like a peacock.

Or he tried not to. 'Tried' being the operative word. Despite Jasper's ever serene and thoughtful façade, he is just such a _man._ It seems like his whole existence boiled down to: 'yeah, I just fucked a girl! I'm good!'

Men: always thinking with their dicks, because that's what they are. Dicks.

And the scents coming off them? They had both showered, but it didn't help me one bit. Alice was just _so_ _full_ of Jasper's caramel scent she could have opened her own coffee shop. And Jasper with not one — _but three! — _new bite marks that gave off a distinct heady valencia aroma?

Disgusting. I'm surprised Alice could even walk, or more correctly prance, without limping. It was given to understand by a particular pixie that Jasper was … _gifted_ in more ways than with just his empathy. On our outings Alice just so loved to _share, _dropping subtle hints about Jasper's prowess that were anything but subtle.

"… what are you two up to?" Alice finished.

She was just glowing. I wonder if Bella noticed the newcomers had changed into a new set of clothes.

So I was more than a bit inclined to be annoyed, not only had they interrupted _our_ moment after so obviously proclaiming that they had completed theirs, but then Alice was just being so _Alice._

Do you ever notice the type? The type that's all perky but just has to know everything? You ever notice how the gift reflects the given? Alice just has to know everything so she gets the gift of knowing even the future. But is that enough for Miss Nosey?

No, it's not. She also has to know everything going on with everybody. All the time.

I have a theory about perkiness in people, and minding their own business. Alice tells me I have a theory for everything. After that little conversation when I shared one of my theories, and Alice shared back about my theorizing … well, we weren't on speaking terms for a while.

Until Esme put her foot down.

I suppose that taking a paint brush and dividing the house in Stowe where we lived at the time went a bit too far for Esme. I have no idea why: Emmett thought it was a riot, which, at the time, didn't help the situation nor my mood any.

But I suppose I can see Esme's perspective: on rare occasions I tend to get a bit righteous about things.

Just a bit.

"Nothing," I answered Alice's question coolly.

But my cool cover was entirely blown by Bella's simultaneous answer of _"Nothing!"_

Unfortunately, Bella's 'nothing' was nothing like mine: it was delivered in that quick, nervous way of hers that screamed _LIE!_ so loudly that I'm actually surprised I didn't see Charlie's cruiser coming down our drive so he could throw his own daughter into the clink for every licentious crime that he didn't want ever to imagine nor to dare breath a word of.

Alice's eagle eyes got their laser focus and at the same time she took in a whiff of the air, tasting it.

So did Jasper: _'Oh, God!'_ he groaned under his breath, in agony.

The same breath had an entirely different effect on Alice: her eyes shifted from Bella to me and back, weighing us, but then they widened in shock, and shifted downward, first disbelievingly examining Bella's crotch, and then flitting to mine.

"Oh, my … God!" Alice exclaimed breathlessly, vibrating in place, and even clapping her hands together a few times.

I closed my eyes and sighed and felt my head sink with the weight of the whole world pressing down on me.

Yes, my kissing Bella seems to have affected her … and me. Venom had … well, leaked out from … me.

Vampires don't need to wear panties. We don't leak involuntarily, and we don't need to protect ourselves from chaffing, _and_ the venom on my jeans where they pressed against me had evaporated nearly as soon as it touched the denim, so it left a stain unnoticeable for a human.

But Alice isn't a human. She had obviously noticed.

And as for Bella … well, she is wearing panties. But that didn't help at all, because they were still a bit … damp. And the scent just wafting off from her and particularly from a certain part of her body …

I could just imagine the scenario that Alice was imagining had occurred with Bella and me under this shady tree.

"But … but …" Alice stuttered, sounding delighted and disappointed at the same time. "I thought … that is, I didn't see this happening until later today … I mean …"

"See what happening?" Bella asked in confusion, looking perplexed.

Alice's eagle eyes narrowed on Bella, and she marched right up to her, looking utterly terrifying in every inch of her purposeful 4'11" pixitude. Bella took a step back, cowering from this now glowing Greek goddess, sparkling in the patch of sunlight.

"Alice," I warned quietly.

Alice ignored me. She actually pushed up her sleeves and craned her head back, looking right up into Bella's fearful chocolate brown pools.

"I asked you a question, Bella," Alice growled, "and I expect an answer." Then little Alice clarified with a snarl: _"What's up?"_

"What?" Bella asked, terrified at Alice's sudden seriousness. "N-nothing! I was just skipping rocks, is all; I was just …"

_"No!"_ Alice commanded. "What were _you two_ doing _right here!" _

Then with a forceful downward thrust of her hand, Alice pointed to the patch of ground at their feet.

"Alice," I growled myself. Scaring Bella to death would do what, exactly?

And what really ticked me off was that I knew why Alice was angry, the little Miss Has-to-know-it-all and … voyeur: she thought she missed out on the hot steamy girl-on-girl sex in her vision, because she and her man were too busy at the time in their own little bitey bumping and grinding.

Leave it to Alice to want to have it all. I wonder if she's unknowingly more than just a bit bi-curious, "accidentally" leading us into that NYC dyke bar and all.

"What? Jeez, Alice," Bella complained defensively, "so we kissed a bit, too! Is that a crime?"

"'Kissed a bit'?" Alice demanded right back. "Are you sure that's all?"

Bella blushed hard, "Well," she admitted, "we …"

"Bella," I interposed: "So Alice is sticking her nose in other people's business, as always. But are we going to kiss and tell to the little pixie just because she's pushy?" I asked quietly, just a hint of the reproach I felt seeping into my voice.

Bella really needed to learn how to take a stand for herself, or she's spend forever being pushed around by any and every person she encountered.

Bella swallowed, and, if it were at all possibly, blushed harder, turning away from Alice.

Alice gasped, but not at Bella's blush.

Alice's hand flashed out to Bella's chin, and turned her head so that her neck was exposed.

I was on my feet, really snarling, but in the subsonic registers so as not to further startle Bella, but I ready to act.

Alice eyes widened to saucers, and she took two quick steps back, looking utterly shocked.

I was at Bella's side in a flash, my arm wrapped around her side, supporting her. My shoulder was just ahead of hers. Alice had backed off, but was it to spring forward again? I was absolutely ready for anything, even if that was to shred my own sister if she was overcome with a sudden bloodlust.

Jasper was right Alice's side, facing me implacably, utter calm and purposefulness just radiating from him.

I would have shaken my head at this tableau if my awareness could have spared itself for the irony of it all: three vampires in a Mexican standoff over a little human. And we had the gall to call ourselves 'civilized,' but look how quickly we instantly became glowering — and gimmering — monsters!

Alice slowly raised her hand and pointed past me to Bella: "You… you kissed her _there?"_ she asked breathlessly.

The way Alice asked it sounded as if it would have been a much more humdrum thing if I had thrown Bella to the ground and humped her senseless.

_Hm! _The image of that … no, focus, Rosalie: protect Bella from the bad vampires.

That thought made me grimace: _bad vampires … _I should be counted in that group, too.

"Yeah," Bella said, "I had a bite there, so …"

I didn't have to be Jasper to sense that Bella was just so totally oblivious of everything going on around her.

… and of the impact of her words. Now Jasper's eyes widened with shock, too as he saw the discoloration on Bella's neck.

I sighed and interjected: "… a _mosquito _bite …"

"Yeah," Bella continued, cluelessly, "and I felt a little scared at first, but then …"

Alice squeaked in surprise.

Bella seemed to be catching a clue. "What?" she demanded.

Jasper was the one to answer. He held up his hands — _'peace'_ — and wrapped them around his Alice, comforting her.

"Bella," he said gravely, "if it had been I, or any other vampire, you wouldn't have felt fear."

He looked toward her significantly, but then he sighed. I could just tell he couldn't believe anybody could be as stupid as Bella.

"You would have felt pain, and then you would have felt nothing, because you would be dead," he explained.

I could feel Bella's creased brow, "But you guys …" she began slowly.

Jasper completed her thought: "… are vampires, Bella. That's what we are: we're vampires."

"But," I heard Bella grappling with something she just didn't understand, "… I thought that since you're Cullens …"

Jasper held Alice a little closer, getting comfort from her now.

"Yes," he said sadly, "since I've become associated with the Cullens, I'm supposed follow that life, but …"

And Jasper's words, I felt a stronger solidarity with him, my 'twin brother,' than I had ever felt before. He didn't say that 'since I am a Cullen.' He said that he had 'become associated _with_ the Cullens.' I saw that he saw himself as the outsider to this 'family' that we purported to be.

Just like how I felt.

Bella noticed something else entirely: "You said 'supposed to'?" she asked quietly.

Jasper looked away for a second, dropping his arms, and then said "Yes" regretfully.

And then nothing else.

It was Alice who spoke next, and her voice was filled with a quiet pride.

"Yes," she said, "Jasper has only slipped up thirteen times since we joined the Cullens."

She made to kiss Jasper affectionate on the cheek, but Jasper just ever so slightly flinched away.

Alice gasped in surprise.

Jasper looked at her regretfully. "Yeah," he said ironically, "only thirteen times."

The smile on his face was a painful thing to see.

I felt sadness well up in my being. Sadness, and regret, and remorse, and a bitterness that only a hatred of self could generate so powerfully.

I looked to Jasper and felt an ineffable connection to him as his emotions washed over me and over all of us.

Bella gasped, and I felt wetness on my shirt as she wrapped her arms around me and rested her cheek on my shoulder, gripping me for emotional support as Jasper's sadness filled us.

Alice's face was filled with that sadness, but it was also incredulous.

"You mean," she asked in disbelief, "it's more than that?"

Jasper looked at her, then took one step toward the river and scooped up some stones.

"What, do you mean this year?" he asked with a forced lightness, and threw a stone up river.

The stone disappeared from sight after skipping across the surface seventeen times.

"Yes, I mean this year." The absolute seriousness of Alice's voice allowed no room for levity.

Jasper kept his eyes on the river. He wouldn't look back at Alice.

"This year I was too busy, what with the wolves and the Seattle newborns, so that would be none." Jasper shrugged his shoulders and the bitterness I felt soured with melancholy.

"I was a good boy this year," he added unhappily.

Alice went to his side, picking up some stones herself.

"And the other years," she continued, beside him, quietly but relentlessly, "when you weren't so occupied?"

Jasper threw another stone up river, but instead of skipping along the surface the stone drove into the water, and the report of it came back to our ears with a violent _tchoo!_ of it shattering the water's surface and the sound barrier. I saw the splash of the stone as it left a contrail as it shot into the water and buried itself into the riverbed beneath.

Alice waited, but Jasper said nothing further.

"Jasper," she whispered. "Since we joined the Cullens, was it more than thirteen times?"

Seriousness filled the air as I saw the silt stirred up from Jasper's stone as it was carried past us by the current.

Jasper, in answer, threw another stone. Hard.

_Tchoo!_ was the distant answer of the river, taking another one of Jasper's missiles.

Jasper dared to glance at Alice, but then he looked away.

Now I tasted guilt. It's amazing how many emotions tasted bitter.

"Well," he said, looking up river. "I mean, you couldn't believe when I took that hiker I would just stop at him … and well, that other time, …" then he paused and grimaced, correcting himself, _"those other times,_ there were the witnesses and …"

"How many?" Alice demanded.

Jasper was quiet. He looked down at the stone in his hand, and made to throw it up river, but then stopped. He crushed the stone in his hand and let the powder shift through his fingers to the ground.

Alice reached out to touch Jasper's shoulder, but Jasper was just so closed off … so lost in himself.

"Twenty-nine," he answered finally.

Alice drew a breath: "Jasper, it's …"

Then Jasper shook, head to toe, and added quickly: "… if you don't count women and children."

Bella had been weeping silently up to now, overcome by the well of Jasper's sadness, but now she gasped, and blurted out: "Why wouldn't you count women and children?"

Jasper scooped up more stones, still looking fixedly up river.

"Because," he explained patiently to this modern girl, and threw three stones at once, causing the _tchoo!-tchoo!-tchoo!-_reports to return to us, making Bella start in surprise, "up to the last century, women and children didn't count: not in censii, not for schooling, not for elections, not for anything. They simply weren't consider people."

Jasper looked down at the stone in his hand, and made to throw it.

Alice caught his hand with hers.

"How many, Jasper," she said solemnly, and added, "counting women and children?"

Jasper looked down at Alice's hand holding his. He brought his other hand to remove hers.

"Jasper," Alice said, looking right up into his downcast eyes that refused to look at hers.

A wry smile twisted Jasper's face.

"Fifty-six," he said. "Fifty-six," he repeated, and then shrugged.

Alice kept her hand on Jasper's looking up into his face.

"Jasper," she begged.

Jasper looked at her.

"It's okay," she said.

Jasper shook his head. "How is this okay?" he demanded.

Alice tilted her head to one side, considering him. "I love you, Jas. No matter what. Do you get that? I love you, and I forgive you."

Jasper's eyes slid away.

"Jas," Alice pleaded.

His eyes returned to her. "Did you ever think that your forgiveness makes it harder for me?"

"How?" Alice asked, dumbfounded.

Jasper turned back to the river, pulling his hand back to himself, and threw the stone.

_Tchoo!_

"There you are, Alice, there you all are, and …" Jasper picked up more stones. "And you're all just so_ perfect, _so_ forgiving!_ Even Emmett when he stumbled was just so easily reaccepted and just put his mistakes behind him without a regret in his head. And Edward, … _God!_ I mean, his singer was _right there!"_ Here Jasper gestured angrily at Bella. "But _no!_ Edward is just so strong and perfect that he could resist _his own singer! _And you all look at me, believing in me so much, and then whenever I came back with my red eyes, forcing us all to move — _again!_ — you just …"

Jasper threw another stone. This time it skipped along the surface, disappearing into the distance.

"How can I live up to that?" he demanded. "I'm a vampire, Alice. I've been a vampire since the War of Northern Aggression. It's just too ingrained into me. I'm not one of you; I can't even aspire to pretend to try to be one of you, and you do this so easily, … no, so _joyfully, _and I …"

Bella was crying silently on my shoulder again as the very air around us was filled with the fog of sadness.

"It's not okay, Alice," Jasper said regretfully. "It's never going to be okay, because …"

"Jasper Whitlock," Alice's icy voice whipped out, interrupting his self-flagellation.

Alice reached up and grabbed Jasper's shoulders and turned him to her, forcing him to look at her again.

"It's going to be okay, Jasper," Alice explained, enunciating her words, "because we are going to _make_ it okay."

She glared up into his face, her own face hard. "Okay?" she demanded.

Jasper sighed. "Okay," he agreed.

Alice didn't let go of his shoulders.

"Fifty-six," she demanded. "Right? Fifty-six?"

Jasper, being a giant of a man at 6'3", towered over Alice, but somehow he looked tiny: shrunken into himself.

"Jasper? Fifty-six?" Alice demanded when his eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"Well, …" Jasper started lightly, but then he swallowed, and looked at Alice, and said seriously: "One hundred fifty-six."

Alice didn't move, but I could see she was shaken to the core.

Alice breathed in, then breathed out, swallowing this new information, this new understanding of her husband that just a moment ago she was so proud of was now in need of more than ten times her forgiveness.

Alice looked up into Jasper's face. "One hundred fifty-six," she repeated.

Jasper nodded.

"Okay," Alice said.

"How?" Jasper asked.

"It's not," Alice admitted. "It's not okay that you think you have to lie to me or that you think you have to keep something from me, so, Jasper, you and I, _we_ are going to work out a way where it _is_ okay for you to tell me anything."

Alice looked up at her Jasper, the little furious and serious pixie. "And we're going to do that now."

But then her voice took on a desperate edge: "Is that okay?"

"Is it okay with you?" he asked her back.

"Yes," she answered absolutely.

Jasper shook his head. "Why?" he asked in complete disbelief.

Alice took her hands off Jasper's shoulders and glared up at him.

"Because, you big dummy," she snarled, then hammered his chest with her index finger and she shouted, _"I fucking love you!"_

Jasper looked down at Alice, then he smiled sadly. "Okay," he said.

"Okay," Alice said firmly.

Jasper glanced over at us, and then suddenly the air cleared of the bittersweet sadness, and Alice suddenly seemed to become aware that the world existed, and that other people were present.

Alice looked over at us. "Um," she said.

Alice turned back to Jasper quickly, gesturing across the Sol Duc. Jasper nodded and leapt, easily clearing the river to disappear into the forest on the opposite bank.

Alice took the stones in her hand and threw them up river. Each stone flew off in its own direction. Each stone skipped easily along the river's surface and disappeared into the distance.

Alice leapt, a firefly, a faery in the sunlight, following Jasper, disappearing into the forest.

I turned to Bella. She started at my sudden movement, then sniffled, rubbing her reddened eyes.

Bella brought her hands back to her sides then reached out to me. I put her hands into mine.

"I think I've had enough skipping stones for today," Bella told me with a wan smile.

I looked at my Bella, wanting to say so much, but not knowing what to say at all.

I smiled wistfully at Bella, and said the only thing I could manage: "Okay."

* * *

**Chapter end notes:**

[1] Sigh. Sometimes, it takes somebody like Jasper to point out to me how far we have come. I mean, we still have a long way to go, but just in this last century we've had women's suffrage and then all that followed. And the ancient Greeks I so admire? Women were non-persons in those times. Sappho was amazing for her work, and that she was even recognized or even acknowledged … being a woman? Yes, we've got a long way to go, but sometimes it's good to look back and see how far we've come.


End file.
